


I Love(d) You

by Cas_tellations



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Supernatural
Genre: ALSO SIDE NOTE THIS IS A SUPERNATURAL CROSSOVER BC ~convenience~, Angst, I love writing angst, M/M, So much angst, also tw's will be in the notes, and a oneshot, and fluffy, and im so exited for this, and now im doing it, au where i post a good fic? no not happening lol, bc thats when ima try to update, but oops my hand slipped, good luck reading this without crying, he wasnt supposed to die, i've wanted to write this for AGES, idk maybe dont read this?, im glad im actually writing this, im going to regret doing two chaptered fics at the same time rip, im not kidding there's alot of angst, not much phan at first but WHATS GOING TO HAPPEN LATER, okay i'll talk more in the notes, outlines are useless, prepare urselves for the angst, so if ur sensitive, v angst, when i started writing this i thought it'd be 2k
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-09-06 15:38:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 22,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8758852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cas_tellations/pseuds/Cas_tellations
Summary: In which Phil has died and Dan is fixated on their past. (based a few years in the future, Dan has quit youtube and moved away but Phil still did youtube, and had 10 million subscribers.) (Phil's not dead forever btw) (just for a bit)"When Dan got the phone call, he didn’t know that he would break as much as he did. He screamed and couldn’t breath and his eyes were filled with tears and his throat was all choked up and his hands shook. The phone fell but he didn’t bother to pick it up, sliding down against the wall and banging his head back, ignoring the physical pain that shot down his spine.He choked on nothing at all and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, seeing stars. It was PJ. All he had needed to say were the simple words of; “It’s Phil. He’s dead.” Just those four simple words and Dan had completely fallen apart."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HI SO THIS IS MY NEW FIC IK IM WRITING ANOTHER CHAPTERED FIC IK THAT FUTURE ME WILL HATE PRESENT ME BUT Y'KNOW WHAT THIS IS MY IDEA AND FUTURE ME WILL JUST HAVE TO DEAL WITH IT. 
> 
> Ok. 
> 
> So, as i mentioned in the tags, i love writing angst. I am the human embodiment of angst. I love it. So much. As it is, this story will probs end up being like 90% angst and 10% smut bc why not? 
> 
> So, im just saying if any kind of anxiety/depression/selfharm things trigger you, maybe this isn't the best fic for you!

 

 

 

When Dan got the phone call, he didn’t know that he would break as much as he did. He screamed and couldn’t breath and his eyes were filled with tears and his throat was all choked up and his hands shook. The phone fell but he didn’t bother to pick it up, sliding down against the wall and banging his head back, ignoring the physical pain that shot down his spine.

 

It wasn’t a fucking dream and no matter how much he wished that it was, it would never be one. He felt like he was being ripped in half and he wanted to just disappear. He felt like he was being drowned, pulled under an ocean of unsaid words and missing thoughts. 

 

He choked on nothing at all and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, seeing stars. 

 

It was PJ. All he had needed to say were the simple words of; “It’s Phil. He’s dead.” 

 

Just those four  _ simple  _ words and Dan had completely fallen apart. 

 

He could hear his fiance at the door, knocking impatiently. 

 

“Dan? You okay in there?” She asked. He could practically  _ see  _ the small sympathetic smile on her face. 

 

He didn’t answer. 

_ Couldn’t  _ answer. 

 

His whole body shook and he tried to keep his breathing under control but he couldn’t. He couldn’t fucking breathe and his Fiance, the supposed love of his life was locked out of the room and couldn’t get in to help him. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted her to help him.

 

Five years. Five years since he had last seen Phil Lester. Five years since he had watched the tears streaming down Phil’s face and had turned around and walked away, slamming the door behind him. Five years since he had told Phil to never contact him again. Five years since he had deleted his youtube channel. Five years since he had hugged Phil, kissed Phil, touched Phil. 

 

Five years. And now it was over. No going back. No asking for  _ one more  _ day, one more second, one more chance.

 

His eyes stung and his heart felt like it wasn’t even part of him anymore and he still couldn’t fucking move. 

 

He can still hear PJ’s small voice from the speaker on his iPhone, asking if he was okay. 

 

No. No, he wasn’t okay. 

 

He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back into a quiff and trying to take a deep breath. 

 

But he just ended up collapsing in sobs, one hand pressed against his stomach and the other over his mouth. Everything  _ hurt.  _ It was a sharp stabby pain as well and a much deeper desolation in every bit of his existence. 

 

‘A freak accident but at least it was quick, he was happy, it didn’t hurt, he’s in a safe place now, he would have wanted you to be happy, he would have wanted you to keep moving on, he would have wanted you to keep living your life.’

 

Words of comfort meant nothing, they were empty. 

 

Lara, his fiance, didn’t know what to do. She tried hugging Dan, tried whispering calming things in his ear, tried making his his favorite food and watching movies with him and kissing his cheek gently but nothing worked. 

 

The funeral. 

 

Lara had urged Dan not to go, she didn’t want him being even more sad about this then he already was. 

 

But she was at work and couldn’t stop him. 

 

He got changed into formal wear quickly, trying not to remember the day that he and Phil had gone out to the shops together to get the very suit jacket that Dan now had on. 

 

He tried to ignore the sting of tears against his face and the hunger in his belly for not having eaten anything since the phone call. 

 

He felt like he wasn’t in his body, more like he was a shadow just following a lifeless corpse around. 

 

The service was small. Just friends and family. Phil’s followers, all of the ten million subscribers from youtube were mourning on their own time. He had seen them on twitter, #RipPhil had been trending for three days straight. He hadn’t tweeted about it, ignoring the hundreds of thousands of messages he got, asking about how he felt about Phil dying. 

 

He couldn’t talk to people about it. Because nobody had know Phil in the same way that he had known Phil. 

 

Nobody. 

 

He shrugs off the words that other people say to him after the service, barely even managing to go up to the front and look into the coffin. He couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped past his lips. He turned away quickly, shaking his head. 

 

The first time he had seen Phil in five years, and it was looking at his dead body lying in a coffin.  

 

-

 

_ “Dan, you know I didn’t mean it!” Phil shouted through the closed door of Dan’s bedroom, trying to ignore the muffled sobs. _

 

_ “Dan, please.” Phil tried, “Dan!”  _

 

_ “Dan.” It was barely a whisper. Phil let his forehead press against the door, his hand still resting on the doorknob.  _

 

_ “Dan, please. Let me in.” Phil pleaded, trying not to let his emotions take over his body.  _

 

_ The door stayed shut.  _

 

-

 

PJ’s arms wrapped themselves around Dan’s torso, pulling him into a hug. He couldn’t just leave Dan standing there, looking so alone. Dan barely felt it. He barely felt himself crying into PJ’s shoulder, barely felt himself slipping into memories. Barely felt anything.

 

-

 

_ “I love you, you know that, right?” Phil whispered, leaning his head so that it rested on Dan’s shoulder.  _

 

_ “I love you, too.” Dan murmured back, absentmindedly picking up one of Phil’s hands and running his thumb over the knuckles. He lifted Phil’s hand to his lips and kissed the back of it softly, a gentle smile spreading across his whole face.  _

 

_ - _

 

“I loved him.” He gasped into PJ’s shoulder, his chest feeling too tight. 

 

“I know.” PJ replied. But he didn’t. Not really. 

 

-

 

_ “DON’T SAY SOMETHING IF YOU DON’T MEAN IT!” Phil screamed, his voice echoing around their flat.  _

 

_ Dan slammed his bedroom door behind him, locking Phil out.  _

 

_ “DON’T JUST HIDE FROM YOUR FUCKING PROBLEMS, DAN!”  _

 

-

 

Phil’s dead, lifeless body. It didn’t hold the past. That Phil was gone, heaven or hell or to nothing. 

 

PJ is still holding him. 

 

Dan doesn’t know if he’s going to be able to do this. 

 

But he had to. 

 

It’s been five years, it shouldn’t affect him this way.

 

-

 

Lara was mad. 

 

She was mad at Dan for going to the funeral, she was mad at Phil for dying and she was mad at PJ for telling Dan that Phil had died and she was mad at herself for not being able to help Dan. She was mad at the world, mad at fate, mad at things that were out of her power. 

 

She took out her rage on Dan. 

 

It wasn’t pretty. 

 

It was dark nights spent breathing hard in the corner of the room, afraid of the monsters who didn’t exist. It was his eyes opening wide and his hand being raised to cover his mouth. It was skipping meals, it was praying for help while your fiance screams at you for the emotions that you can’t control. 

 

“You shouldn’t love him anymore!” 

 

“You said you loved me!”

 

“He died, Dan. He’s gone!”

 

“Don’t walk away from me, I’m not done talking!” 

 

“YOU CAN’T GET HIM BACK!” 

 

-

  
  


 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Phil has died and Dan is fixated on bringing him back. (based a few years in the future, Dan has quit youtube and moved away but Phil still did youtube, and had 10 million subscribers.)
> 
> "When Dan got the phone call, he didn’t know that he would break as much as he did. He screamed and couldn’t breath and his eyes were filled with tears and his throat was all choked up and his hands shook. The phone fell but he didn’t bother to pick it up, sliding down against the wall and banging his head back, ignoring the physical pain that shot down his spine.
> 
> He choked on nothing at all and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, seeing stars.
> 
> It was PJ. All he had needed to say were the simple words of; “It’s Phil. He’s dead.”
> 
> Just those four simple words and Dan had completely fallen apart."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hi hi hi hi lookit i actually have this up on time im so proud of myself i was writing this lastnight and was like,,, , , ,,,, there's no way that i'll ever be able to have it up bc i left it at so last minute ?? but its here ??? i mean it was supposed to be 2k longer but hey i wrote something !
> 
> Also, i've just quickly made this a Supernatural crossover bc its easier than creating my own ~original~ charcaters, but dw you dont need to have seen the TV show to be able to understand what;s happening. 
> 
> ok i'll go now have fun reading the thing

  
  


 

 

Dan screamed, pleading so something,  _ anything,  _ for just one more chance. Just one more glance, one more touch, one more hug, one more word, one more, just one more, one more. 

 

Lara was tired of it by now, it had been a whole month, for god’s sake. She wanted her fiance to just get over it. To just get over the fact that the person who used to be his whole entire world, had died. With no soppy last words; no final goodbye, no apologies for past actions or expressions of regrets for previous actions. He couldn’t just forget that. It wouldn’t leave his head, it was raging around, all these thoughts, all these hopes, all these dreams. 

 

The worst of it, Dan thinks, is the memories. You couldn’t erase the memories. 

 

2009, Phil’s arms wrapping around Dan’s body for the first time, Dan’s heart racing and his hands shaking ever so slightly. Walking around manchester, nervous but excited, going on the big wheel and kissing, for the first time. Dan could remember it vividly, too vividly. 

 

2012, Unsteady silence between them. Gone were the days when Dan could come home to a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug from  Phil. Hushed whispers pressed through thin walls, expressing their discomfort and uncertainty to their empty rooms. 

 

2016, Better. Happy. Soft. Busy. Exiting. Everything happening all at once, on the verge of disaster but not quite reaching the precipice of it yet. Tours, songs, sleepy kisses and comfortable cuddles. 

 

-

 

The music's too loud but it doesn’t stop his thoughts from invading his sanity, tearing him apart, reducing him to raw emotion. He tries not scream, tries not to cry, tries to actually live. 

 

He wants Phil back. He wants to tell Phil that he’s sorry. He wants to take everything back that he ever said to Phil and start all over, start back in 2009 and make sure that they never went downhill from there. 

 

But he couldn’t. 

 

He couldn’t do that, no matter how hard he tried. What happened had happened, and now he just had to try and live with it somehow. 

 

-

 

Lara paused at the front door, memorising the peeling light-blue paint on the side of her house. Dan was inside, she knew that much. She tried to calm herself down before she opened the door. She didn’t  _ want  _ to blame Dan. Because in all ways, it wasn’t Dan’s fault. It was Phil’s. But that didn’t erase the anger and since Phil was gone, the only person who could take her emotions was Dan. 

 

He was breaking under the pressure. Lara knew that, but she couldn’t stop. 

 

-

 

PJ was calling. Dan debated whether or not he should just leave it to go to voicemail, but decided against it. He’d ignored PJ for long enough. 

 

“Hello.” Dan said, absentmindedly fiddling with the hem of his jumper. 

 

“Hey Dan.” PJ’s voice was bright as ever, but still held some underlying sadness. Of course it did, he and Phil had grown incredibly close after Dan had left. The pain that he had felt, and most likely still does, was as close to Dan’s as it could be.

 

Their conversation was short. Neither of them had been expecting anything more. 

 

-

 

Invisible claws raked across Dan’s skin, marking it beyond recognition, in his mind. 

 

He couldn’t really remember the last time that he ate or slept or even did the simple task of taking a shower, for that matter. He couldn’t find any motivation to update his social media, which Many of Phil’s old followers had noticed, even some of Dan’s followers from back when he did youtube had sent him many the DM or tweet, simply trying to make sure that he was okay. 

 

He wasn’t, not by any means okay. He didn’t tell them that, but they had guessed. 

 

-

  
  


The wind was bitterly cold, but Dan managed to not shiver, clenching his teeth together and shoving his hands into his pockets. He had to get out of the house. It wasn’t just Lara’s anger, or his own sadness. It was the overwhelming feeling of the walls closing in, the memories consuming his consciousness. 

 

The truth was; he wanted Phil back. 

 

Just to apologize, if nothing else. 

 

He had to make sure, that in those last moments of Phil’s life, he didn’t hate Dan. 

 

He would, of course, understand completely if Phil did in fact hate him, as he was the one who had originally fired the starting pistol that had resulted in this whole mess. 

 

He blamed himself, mostly. 

 

Because maybe if he had been there with Phil, then all of this wouldn’t have happened. 

 

He felt numb, primarily. Like he couldn’t feel any proper  _ good  _ emotion anymore. Like happiness, true and unconditional  _ happiness  _ couldn’t exist for him any longer. Like this was the end, hell or heaven or nothing at all taking over his entire being and encasing it into immortality of suffering, living long through the death of someone who used to be half of who Dan was. 

 

The frost was encasing each and every piece of grass, crunching underfoot. The wind was bitterly cold, whipping against the exposed skin on Dan’s face. It wasn’t the ideal weather to be walking around London in, during the early hours of the morning. But it was the weather so he just had to deal with it. 

 

His phone rang a few times but he ignored it, hoping that it was just Lara and that she wouldn’t mind too much. 

 

The city was busy, moving all around him, yet he still somehow managed to stay in his own little bubble, avoid eye contact and lingering questions as to why he was wandering around the city in the early hours of the morning. 

 

That was until someone knocked into Dan, sending him flying to the pavement, catching himself with his hands against the cold concrete, digging into his soft palms. He ignored the hot pain and pushed himself back up to his feet, quickly spinning, a glare painted over his whole face. 

 

Anger at the world and at Phil and at himself all ran into one line and overcame him at that moment. 

 

He shoved the man who stood before him. Hard. 

 

He stumbled a bit but didn’t fall, a calm look taking over his face where’s Dan’s was overwhelmed by untainted anger. 

 

“Watch where you’re walking.” Dan spat, taking a threatening step towards the man before him. 

 

The man held his hands up, palms facing Dan, his face solom. 

 

“I’m sorry, Dan.” He said. 

  
Dan gaped at him. He had never seen this person ever, he was sure of it. So why did he know his name?

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i hope you liked that
> 
> new chapter next Monday yay (if i can write it)
> 
> also my tumblr is @starry-eyed-lester so if you wanna give me a follow that'd be nice.
> 
> AND COMMENTS AND KUDOS ARE NICE OKAY I'LL LEAVE NOW BYE


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Phil has died and Dan is fixated on bringing him back. (based a few years in the future, Dan has quit youtube and moved away but Phil still did youtube, and had 10 million subscribers.)
> 
> "When Dan got the phone call, he didn’t know that he would break as much as he did. He screamed and couldn’t breath and his eyes were filled with tears and his throat was all choked up and his hands shook. The phone fell but he didn’t bother to pick it up, sliding down against the wall and banging his head back, ignoring the physical pain that shot down his spine.
> 
> He choked on nothing at all and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, seeing stars.
> 
> It was PJ. All he had needed to say were the simple words of; “It’s Phil. He’s dead.”
> 
> Just those four simple words and Dan had completely fallen apart."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i started writing this at 7:30pm yesterday and then fell asleep and didn't finish it until like 5 minutes ago, which just goes to show how much i can procrastinate my fic writing. I have so much stuff to do you have no idea my life's a mess (secret santa fic, chapter for another fic, christmas present for Le Girlfriend + christmas stuff for my entire family & school as well . fuck me)
> 
> Anyhow . pls enjoy this chapter ik its short and stuff but it's all I could do im sorry

 

 

 

 

 

 

-

 

Dan stopped himself before he screamed at the man to fuck off. Instead, he took a deep breath, squeezed his eyes shut for a split second before meeting the man’s level gaze. 

 

“Who are you?” He asked, taking a step back. 

 

“My name is Castiel.” He said in an even tone, not attempting to come any closer to Dan. 

 

“Is that name supposed to mean anything to me?” Dan growls, preparing to walk away, to go home, to go anywhere that wasn’t here, pretty much. 

 

Castiel pressed his lips into a thin line, surveying Dan’s defiant stance for a second before speaking up again;

 

“Your friend died.” 

 

The bluntness of the words are what takes Dan by surprise, rather than the knowledge the words contained. He takes another step backwards, shooting Castiel a glare when he refuses to back down, walking forwards a bit to close the gap between them.

 

“I need your help to get him back.” Castiel said, the desperation in his voice making Dan freeze. 

 

Dan looked quizzically at him before laughing;

 

“Phil’s dead. There’s no ‘ _ getting back _ ’ from death.” 

 

Castiel seemed taken aback by both Dan’s lack of faith and his abruptness, his face easily showing off his emotions. The world is swirling around them but none of the passer-bys seem to notice Castiel or Dan, like they were invisible to the tangible world. 

 

“We have to get him back.” Castiel insisted, blinking across to Dan. 

 

Dan’s mind was full of thoughts, dictating the fact that there was no way possible to actually get his friend back. Because death was final. Death was all there was, there wasn’t anything after it. No heaven or hell, just nothing. He shakes his head to try and rid them of thoughts but they just come back again and again, stronger each time, clawing at his sense of humanity. 

 

“Will you help me?” Castiel asked, but his voice not really portraying a question. It was a demand. An order. Something that Dan had no choice but to whisper a yes, like someone was pulling the strings inside his head to make his mouth shape words of consent. 

 

Castiel offered him a small smile, then he lifted up a hand and snapped his fingers. 

 

At the same second that the sharp  _ snap  _ echoed throughout Dan’s head, his vision shot black and his mind went blank.

 

-

 

“Jesus Christ, Cas, you didn’t kill the guy, did you?” Dan hears a rough voice, a hand gripped around his upper arm, shaking him back into consciousness. 

 

Confusion. It hits him like a bus. His vision is blurry. Darkness clouds around him and he fights to keep it at bay. It feels like some sort of monster is screaming into his brain, filling it with thoughts that he’d rather not think about. 

 

He hates Phil. This is all Phil’s fault. If Phil hadn’t died than none of this would have ever happened. As it is, this anger is what makes Dan fully wake up, red hot anger seeping into the corner of his vision and tinging everything with heat. 

 

“Hey kid, you okay?” 

 

Dan squints up to see who’s voice it is, expecting Castiel but is met instead with a completely different face, 

 

“I’m Dean.” The person says; as if he recognizes the confusion painting over Dan’s face. 

 

“What the hell am I doing here?” Dan tries not to yell, but pretty much fails as his voice ends up coming out as both rude as well as dominant, most likely not the best tone of voice to direct at someone who had just kidnapped him. 

 

“We-” Dean motions towards two people standing behind him, “Need you help.” 

 

Dan narrows his eyes, pushing himself up to his feet, his height over Dean an advantage. 

 

“Let me go.” He growls, even though nobody is touching him.  

 

“I’m afraid we can’t do that.” Dean says in a heavy American accent. But he doesn’t show any regret in his eyes or body language. 

 

Dan tilts his head, the monsters in his head quieting down as he takes control of his own emotions. 

 

“Go fuck yourself.” Dan shoots to him, glaring with every piece of hatred in his body that he could summon up, not holding any of it back. 

 

Dean takes a step back, shock flashing over his gaze, spinning around his head quickly to meet Castiel’s eyes for a split-second before meeting Dan’s eyes again. 

 

Dan raises an eyebrow, challenging Dean. 

 

Dean raises his chin, glaring back with almost as much ferocity that Dan had been able to shoot over to him. 

 

“Dan….” The name came from Castiel, stepping in between the two glaring boys. 

 

“What?” Dan snaps, meeting Castiel’s eyes with a defiant glare. 

 

“We need your help. So you need to help us, weather you like it or not.” Dean cuts it, ignoring Castiel’s vain attempts at making peace. 

 

They’re on a deserted road in the middle of nowhere, mist surrounding them and an old chevy impala to their left, parked by the ditch bordering the road. There weren’t any streetlamps, the only source of light coming from the car’s headlights.  It creates an eerie effect, like a Halloween night spent wandering around a dark neighborhood without the allowance of a friend’s courage to help you along. 

 

“What do you need my help with?” Dan asks, not because he wants to help them, but because he’s mildly intrigued as to what they need his help with in the first place. 

 

“We need to get your friend back.” Dean’s voice is steady, but Dan can almost  _ feel  _ the desperation behind the steady voice. For some reason, they  _ needed  _ Dan to get Phil back. Dan vaguely wonders why they, of all people would want to get Phil back, from the dead nonetheless. 

 

But Phil’s not his friend anymore and Phil hated him and Phil never wanted to see him again so even if he hadn’t died, Dan wouldn’t have wanted to see him again. Because the hatred that he was sure would be burning in Phil’s gaze, would be worse than what he was feeling right now. It would be worse than the utter hopelessness he feels without Phil around.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hi hi i hope you liked that 
> 
> comments and kudos are v nice i always appreciate them ayyyy
> 
> ok i'll leave now Happy Holidays and all that shit, byes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is a lil late holiday stuff happened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hi hi pls comment/kudos this shit thx

 

 

 

 

-

 

“Jesus christ, Cas, you didn’t kill the guy, did you?” Dan hears a rough voice, a hand gripped around his upper arm, shaking him back into consciousness. 

 

Confusion. It hits him like a bus. His vision is blurry. Darkness clouds around him and he fights to keep it at bay. It feels like some sort of monster is screaming into his brain, filling it with thoughts that he’d rather not think about. 

 

He hates Phil. This is all Phil’s fault. If Phil hadn’t died than none of this would have ever happened. As it is, this anger is what makes Dan fully wake up, red hot anger seeping into the corner of his vision and tinging everything with heat. 

 

“Hey kid, you okay?” 

 

Dan squints up to see who’s voice it is, expecting Castiel but is met instead with a completely different face, 

 

“I’m Dean.” The person says; as if he recognises the confusion painting over Dan’s face. 

 

“What the hell am I doing here?” Dan tries not to yell, but pretty much fails as his voice ends up coming out as both rude as well as dominant, most likely not the best tone of voice to direct at someone who had just kidnapped him. 

 

“We-” Dean motions towards two people standing behind him, “Need you help.” 

 

Dan narrows his eyes, pushing himself up to his feet, his height over Dean an advantage. 

 

“Let me go.” He growls, even though nobody is touching him.  

 

“I’m afraid we can’t do that.” Dean says in a heavy American accent. But he doesn’t show any regret in his eyes or body language. 

 

Dan tilts his head, the monsters in his head quieting down as he takes control of his own emotions. 

 

“Go fuck yourself.” Dan shoots to him, glaring with every piece of hatred in his body that he could summon up, not holding any of it back. 

 

Dean takes a step back, shock flashing over his gaze, spinning around his head quickly to meet Castiel’s eyes for a split-second before meeting Dan’s eyes again. 

 

Dan raises an eyebrow, challenging Dean. 

 

Dean raises his chin, glaring back with almost as much ferocity that Dan had been able to shoot over to him. 

 

“Dan….” The name came from Castiel, stepping in between the two glaring boys. 

 

“What?” Dan snaps, meeting Castiel’s eyes with a defiant glare. 

 

“We need your help. So you need to help us, weather you like it or not.” Dean cuts it, ignoring Castiel’s vain attempts at making peace. 

 

They’re on a deserted road in the middle of nowhere, mist surrounding them and an old chevy impala to their left, parked by the ditch bordering the road. There weren’t any streetlamps, the only source of light coming from the car’s headlights.  It creates an eerie effect, like a halloween night spent wandering around a dark neighborhood without the allowance of a friend’s courage to help you along. 

 

“What do you need my help with?” Dan asks, not because he wants to help them, but because he’s mildly intrigued as to what they need his help with in the first place. 

 

“We need to get your friend back.” Dean’s voice is steady, but Dan can almost  _ feel  _ the desperation behind the steady voice. For some reason, they  _ needed  _ Dan to get Phil back. Dan vaguely wonders why they, of all people would want to get Phil back, from the dead nonetheless. 

 

But Phil’s not his friend anymore and Phil hated him and Phil never wanted to see him again so even if he hadn’t died, Dan wouldn’t have wanted to see him again. Because the hatred that he was sure would be burning in Phil’s gaze, would be worse than what he was feeling right now. It would be worse than the utter hopelessness he feels without Phil around. 

 

-

 

Dan presses the palms of his hands into his eyes, effectively cutting off his vision. He tries to focus on his own breathing other than the panicked beating of his heart. 

 

He can feel someone’s hand on his shoulder, a voice trying to break through the sound of his own blood pumping through his body. But he can’t let them in. Can’t let them see what he’s become. He feels like some sort of monster, finally breathing properly for the first time. He doesn’t want to let this monster inside of him out into the living world, but there’s nothing that he can really do to stop it because it’s so much stronger than him, ripping him apart with merely a flick of his fingers. 

 

He’s left alone then, in the darkness of the night, with a devil raging on inside of him. 

 

Dean and Castiel, to their credit, didn’t trigger whatever attack Dan was under. All they wanted was Dan’s help. To get Phil back. Even though, in Dan’s head at least, accomplishing such a feat would be highly impossible. 

 

By the time dawn touches the horizon, Dan is fast asleep, slumped against the Impala on the side of the road, the streetlamps illuminating his limp form. Dean prods him awake, trying to ignore the way that Dan’s eyes flashed red as they fluttered open. The same way that they had flashed the angry colour last night, not long before he passed out. 

 

Dean guides Dan into the backseat of the Impala, with little to no resistance on the taller boy’s part. Castiel slips into the passenger seat, silently staring out the window, letting Dean drive. 

 

Dan doesn’t ask any questions. 

 

To anyone who knew him, they’d know that something was extremely wrong.

 

But Dean and Castiel didn’t know him. 

 

So they stayed quiet, not questioning Dan’s actions. 

 

Dan was a shell, reliving past memories over and over, letting them torture him and every bit of his entire being. 

 

_ “Leave. Don’t you dare ever come back.” Phil spat in his face, tears in his eyes, causing the whole world to look blurry and disoriented. It comes like a slap in the face, leaving his gasping for breath. He can feel Phil’s hand on his back, shoving him out of the door. Screaming. Dan can’t take the noise. He shuts his brain off, walking like an emotionless zombie. He has his phone, wallet, and the clothes that he had put on that morning. Nothing else.  _

 

“D’you think he’s okay?” Castiel’s voice is small. Timidly prodding at a question that both he and Dean had been avoiding ever since Dan had woken up. 

 

Dean shrugs in response to the question, looking in the rearview mirror at the blank-faced man. 

 

“He’s here. That’s gotta count for something.” Dean mutters. 

 

Castiel goes silent after that. He doesn’t have anything else to add to the conversation. 

 

They drive for a good few hours. Dean put on some music at some point, but the radio station that it was from was overlain with static, making the music fuzzy and hard to hear. But the beat of it was still present, settling the atmosphere in the old car. 

 

Dean pulls over at stonehenge, the huge rocks casting shadows on the slightly parched-looking grass. 

 

Dean sighs heavily, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel for a second before turning around in his seat, trying to make eye contact with Dan. 

 

Dan avoids his gaze however, and stares out the window towards the ancient relicts. 

 

“Dan.” Dean’s voice is sharp, catching Dan’s attention quickly. 

 

“Yes?” His voice is even. Soft. Quiet. It’s almost unsettling how calm his voice is.  

 

“We’re here.” Dean tries to engage Dan, wanting Dan to show some sign of emotion, anger, even. He would have been thankful to see the red glint appear in Dan’s eye after the silence that had taken him over all day. He wants Dan to reply somehow, even with a simple; ‘Where are we?’ 

 

But Dan doesn’t ask anything. He just returns to staring back out the window, blinking every so often. If Dean had been paying more attention to him then he might have noticed how fast and irregular Dan’s breaths were, or how quick his heart was beating against his ribs, an anxiety attack with to screaming or crying. 

 

Just quiet. 

 

It was worse, in more ways than one. But Dean was too preoccupied to see that, and Cas seemed to confused about something to pay any attention to his surroundings. 

 

Some cars are still speeding along the highway, ignoring the Impala pulled over to the side, as well as the three fully-grown men sitting in it, all with strong looks of misled hopes on their faces. 

 

Dan’s hope was in death. He wanted it to come, and soon. Because if death came, then maybe he could be done with thinking about Phil. Maybe Phil could be erased from his entire mind’s documents. 

 

Dean’s hope was in Castiel. Castiel had a key to what he wanted. He’s hoping with all of his being that Castiel won’t change at the last second. He doesn’t think that Cas will, but at the same time he’s not entirely sure. 

 

Castiel’s hope is in life. He hopes that life is good and strong and gentle, he hopes that life is filled with love and kindness, forgiveness and little to no loss. But some people’s lives ended with no hope or love. He felt sorry for those people, he really did. But at the same time he knew that he couldn’t give everyone a perfect ending. Some people had to die sad. Phil shouldn’t have been one of those people. 

 

Phil should have been given a good ending. A fairytale ending. An ending that left angels sighing in relief, looking down at love and peace and happiness. 

 

They shouldn’t have to look down at a drunk man with overgrown black hair, a bottle of some sort of liquor clutched in one hand and an old iPhone in the other, scrolling through what looked like hundreds of old pictures of him, years ago, seen with another person. A certain brown-haired boy with prominent dimples. They shouldn’t have looked down at that drunk, lovestruck man, and watched him die.

 

But they did. They saw that man die. They say the tears in his lifeless eyes, staring at that one image of him and the brown haired boy forever.

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> im sorry for this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! I hope you all had a nice holiday/new years! 
> 
> im very sorry that this is a day late, i tried to have it on time but i just couldn't manage it.
> 
>  
> 
> one day, i will write longer chapters . today is not that day

  
  


 

-

  
  


The rocks are falling.

 

Both Dean’s and Castiel’s faces are painted over with shock, a loud groaning sound splitting the silence of the car, followed by a smash as another rock fell. These motions were accompanied by, screams, high-pitched and filled with more terror than Dan had ever heard in his life. 

 

He looks out the window, his attention firm. 

 

Castiel disappears without a puff of smoke and Dean slams his hands against the steering wheel, loudly saying; “Motherfucker!”

 

Dan can’t feel the emotions. Everybody else’s bodies screamed fear, or pain, or anxiety, but Dan didn’t feel them. It was like his mind had been wiped, leaving behind no trace of proper sanity. 

 

Dean’s jumping out of the car, slamming the door behind him and practically screaming at Dan to  _ ‘Just fucking stay in the car don’t you dare move.’ _

 

Dan doesn’t move. Or can’t move, nobody’s entirely sure.

 

The impala trembles as they fall, one by one. 

 

A mother is screaming,  bent over a crumpled body of a child, it’s legs trapped under a huge piece of stone. 

 

Someone’s seeing-eye dog is dragging its owner away, limping slightly but ignoring the pain, keeping its gaze focused on the clear grass away from the falling rocks, where it’s human would be safe.

 

Some almost look like they’re exploding, the bits of rock hanging in mid air for a little too long to be real, before slamming into the ground, scratching at the few remaining people. 

 

Dean’ ushering people away, yanking the mother away from her dead child, screaming at her to leave. 

 

If Dan could feel, he’s sure he’d be scared. Or empathetic, to some extent. 

 

But he wan’t. 

 

Not even a little bit. 

 

-

 

_ It’s not too late, It’s not too late, It’s not too late; Phil’s inner monologue chants, as he jumps in the taxi, equipped with nothing but his iPhone. He has to get there in time. His leg is shaking slightly. He stares out the window, his mouth going uncomfortably dry. He hopes it’s not too late. He needs it to not be too late. He takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm down, but it doesn’t really do much. He looks down at his iPhone, checking the time.  _

 

_ 7:34pm _

 

_ Dammit. He might be too late.  _

 

_ He unlocks his phone and is met with the tweet. The one that h\ad made him call a taxi right away and hope it wasn’t too late to get there.  _

 

_ @danisnotonfire: yikes this is a big restaurant.. at  least it;s fitting for the occasion. Wish me luck. _

 

_ There was a picture, of course. It was of Dan, standing in front of a restaurant that Phil knew only too well. Years ago, they used to joke about going there if they wanted to propose. Something about it being huge and expensive and hey, if the other person ever said no; then there’d at the very least be good food.  _

 

_ That might not be what Dan was there for now. Probably not.  _

 

_ Anger for, as well as at Dan shot through his veins, turning everything into ice. He hated him. He hated him because of the things he had done and said, and after all that, hadn’t even said sorry. Just ran. He left, just like that. And Phil hadn’t even wanted to stop him. He hadn’t even tried to stop him.  _

 

_ That had been a little over three years ago.  _

 

_ He hadn’t seen Dan, hadn’t gotten a call or a text. He hadn’t wanted one.  _

 

_ But then Dan just had to go tweet this and all of the AmazingPhil followers freaked out, sending screenshot upload screenshot to Phil. There was no way that he could have avoided it. If he could have, then he would have. But he couldn’t and he didn’t and now all he could remember was Dan. Dan, with his brown hair and eyes flecked with gold. The way he’d smile, looking down at the ground and covering his mouth with a sweater-pawed hand. The way dimples would appear on his cheeks. The way how back in 2009, he had clung to Phil like a lifeline when they had first met.  _

 

_ Phil squeezed his eyes shut.  _

 

_ He didn’t want to remember _

 

_ He hated Dan. _

 

_ Was supposed to hate Dan. _

 

_ So why was he in a taxi on the way to a restaurant where his ex-boyfriend was most likely about to propose to his girlfriend? He didn’t know.  _

 

_ Nothing made sense. _

 

_ Could life make sense? _

 

_ It seemed like there wasn’t really any sort of purpose to it anymore, he wasn’t happy. Wasn’t that the supposed meaning of life? To be happy? He wasn’t. He had youtube, sure. It was a job. It was work, becoming less of a hobby each time he painstakingly sat in front of a camera, talking about what had happened to him.  _

 

_ Who was he kidding, there was no way that he could face Dan, not after all this time. What was his plan? Why had he even gotten a taxi to come all the way here in the first place?  _

 

_ He told the driver to please turn around and go back.  _

 

_ He didn’t regret it.  _

 

_ Dan had his own life, and Phil had his. They used to overlap and be intertwined beyond recognition, but it wasn’t like that anymore. Nothing was the same anymore, everything changed, for better or for worse.  _

 

_ Dan wasn’t ever coming back.  _

 

_ Dan, to Phil, was dead. _

 

-

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hi i hoped you liked that! 
> 
> my tumblr is @starry-eyed-lester if u wanna hmu over there
> 
> ALSO; I have recently written a fic call lowercase_stars , that I am incredibly proud of, it'd mean the word to me if you'd go check it out. 
> 
> another thing: can you please leave prompts for fic that you might want me to write in the future down in the comments? that'd be nice bc recently i've been out of ideas yikes


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted to write form deans pov so this happened. 
> 
> Im sorry if this is shit and ik it seems like this storys not going anywhere you just have to trust me when i say that im doing the best that i can, okay?
> 
> **also this chapter has a lil self harm in it so if ur sensitive to that pls be careful okay xx

 

 

 

Colour washes over Dan like some sort of ocean. It swirls around him, roaring in his ears until he can’t hear anything anymore. He presses his lips together and focuses on the roaring, hoping that if he let it wash over him enough, then he’d be able to feel proper emotion again. Because right now he can’t. He doesn’t know if it’s the pain or the anger or the confusion or just the utter hopelessness that he feels. 

 

He is shaking but can’t force his body to stop. 

 

He can still hear the muffled cries of people outside, littered around the fallen stonehenge. But everything feels like it’s under a veil. Like he’s underwater and everyone’s on the beach, living their own lives without knowing how hard it is for him to breath with no air. 

 

He’s subconsciously digging his fingernails through the thin fabric of his jeans and into his thighs, leaving red marks. But he can barely feel that. 

 

Castiel reappears, in the same way that he had disappeared, without a bang or cloud of smoke. Just gone one second, then appearing a minute later. His hair's all messed up and he’s out of breath, but doesn’t seem particularly bothered by it. 

 

Dean comes back to the impala about an hour later, a slightly triumphant look painted across his entire face. He talks to Castiel in a low tone of voice, but Dan can’t focus properly on it. He shakes his head in frustration. If someone had been paying him any attention, they would have noticed how his eyes flashed with red and his lips pulled themselves back into a snarl. 

 

But nobody was paying him any attention. Not in the slightest. Dean and Castiel were deep in conversation, and Dan’s ears weren’t working properly. 

 

He honest to god growled, digging his fingernails in farther. But he still couldn’t feel anything physical. He was sure that at this point, he was drawing blood. But he didn’t stop. Wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. 

 

He screams. It’s inhuman, the sheer volume of it. It’s every bit of pain and insecurity that he feels, channeled into a sound. 

 

It makes Dean jump and Castiel’s face go all white. 

 

Dan can’t stop. It  _ hurts.  _ It hurts but he can’t feel the physical pain and his brain feels like it’s messing up and his heart doesn’t feel like it’s beating properly. 

 

He wants to stop. He wants the pain and the nothingness to stop but it won't. 

 

Castiel’s reaching towards him, pressing a forefinger against Dan’s forehead, and everything goes mercifully black. 

 

-

 

“Jesus christ, kid.” Dean mutters, pushing Dan into a slightly more comfortable lying-down position on the faded backseat of the impala. “What’s wrong with him?” He asks quietly, turning to Cas. 

 

Cas is staring at Dan, but his vision snaps to Dean when his lips form a question. 

 

He doesn’t exactly know the answer. 

 

He’s never heard such scream. It didn’t sound human. It was more like just a manifestation of pain and heartbreak, turned into some sort of sound. 

 

“His heart’s broken.” Cas said, as an answer to Dean’s question. 

 

“Bullshit.” Dean spat, shuffling back into the front seat after checking Dan. He started up the engine. “Hearts don’t actual break, it’s just a metaphor.” 

 

“Some hearts can break.” Cas argues, staring fixedly out the front window. 

 

“How is that even possible?” Dean questions, turning to face Cas. 

 

“If you love someone enough, you’re attached to them. When they die, part of you dies as well.” Cas answers steadily. 

 

Dean re-focuses on the road, “So we’re talking about soulmates? That kind of thing?” 

 

“Yes,” Cas confirms. 

 

_ Soulmates.  _ The word stings Dean to the core. He never thought that they existed. It was too… too  _ perfect  _ to have another human made perfectly for you. There was supposed to always be some sort of catch. Something that makes it  _ not work.  _ He wonders if everybody’s meant to have a soulmate. Nearly more importantly; does  _ he  _ have a soulmate? Have they already died? Was he, too, missing a piece of himself, without even knowing it? 

 

He shakes his head. It doesn’t make any sense. No two people should be perfect for one another. There was a catch. There was always a catch. Dan wasn’t perfect for Phil. He wasn’t. Dean tried to make himself believe this, but it was impossible. He had s _ een  _ the videos that Dan and Phil had made together. He had seen the electricity running through them, connecting them to one another, beyond proper physics. 

 

That wasn’t just friends. That was something more. 

 

He feels Cas’s hand, pressed up against his thigh. It’c comforting, in a way. He moves one hand off the steering wheel and places it over Cas’s hand, letting their fingers easily intertwine. 

 

“We’ll get him back.” Cas promises in a low voice. Dean wants to believe him but he’s not sure if Cas’s promise hold any truth to it. 

 

“He’s the key, right?” Dean jerks his head back to point at Dan. 

 

“Yeah.” Cas hums, running his thumb over Dean’s knuckles, trying his best to be comforting. 

 

“How’re things on the other side?” Dean asks, keeping his voice low. He doesn’t want Dan to suddenly wake up and hear what he and Cas are talking about. 

 

Cas takes a moment to think about what the answer to the question should be. He doesn’t want to lie to Dean, but at the same time he still wants to shield him from the majority of the truth. 

 

“They’re…. Alright.” He ends up saying, not able to keep any soft of confidence in his tone. 

 

“Don’t lie to me.” Dean snarls, taking his hand away from Cas’s and putting it back on the steering wheel. He hears the sigh that Cas emits, but tries to ignore it.

 

Minutes pass.

 

The English countryside flies by on either side of the road, giant green meadows occasionally dotted with cows or horses or sheep. 

 

They stop at a motel, nearly a quarter of an hour’s drive away from Stonehenge. They need to be close enough to get there quickly. 

  
Dean tells Cas to wake Dan up and bring his to the room, then leaves without so much as a backwards glance.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls help with my praise kink and leave nice comments thank


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one day i'll write longer chapters its just that ~life~ is being a bit of a bitch rn so this is all i can manage to do without triggering myself with my own angsty writings : )

 

 

 

-

 

_ Radiohead is playing. It reminds Phil of Dan and the millions of ‘I love you’s whispered through the night. It reminds Phil of how it’s too late to go back to that now. He feels a gaping hole in his chest where some part of Dan used to be. But it’s too late. It’s too late. Too late. Late.  _

 

-

 

Dan wakes up lying on his back, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. The patterns in it are unrecognizable, stains and cracks alike. Everything seems dim, under a sea of memories.

 

The sky is still dark outside, sunrise having not yet taken over the stars. 

 

He doesn’t go to the window to look at the shards of diamond cutting through the night. 

 

He stays in bed, one hand resting on his stomach and the other covering his mouth, trying not to let sobs escape his chest. 

 

He feels alone. Maybe that’s where the sudden emotion had hit him; loneliness. 

 

By all means, he had disappeared. His iPhone was in his pocket but it was out of battery. His parents, friends, even his fiance; would be wondering where he was. Where he went. Why he just… left. 

 

He feels the sadness in every part of him and wishes that the numbness would come back because nothing is better than everything. 

 

-

 

_ The houseplants are dying but Phil’s half-hearted attempts of reviving them have failed miserably. Eventually, he just gives up and lets them die. The flat is a graveyard, housing too many memories and not enough laughter. It’s been a year since Dan left and at this point Phil should be over him but he’s not. He’s taking a break from making videos and tries to get his mental health under control. PJ comes over and they play board games and drink shitty wine. Phil cries himself to sleep that night but in the morning yells at himself for being so pathetic. He tells himself to stop being so stupid and get himself together again.  _

 

-

 

Dean’s awake and he hears Dan’s quiet sniffles in the early morning light brushing through the window. He wants to tell the kid that everything would be okay but he doesn’t want to make promises that he can’t keep because even  _ he  _ doesn’t know what’s going on most of the time. He wants Sam to be there but there's no way to talk to Sam until this whole mess is sorted out so he lets the loneliness wash over him and tries to ignore the pain in his chest. 

 

-

 

Castiel is at stonehenge. It’s quiet, even for the early morning. He can feel something, so close but so far away at the same time. He reaches his hand out, feeling for some sort of invisible door. He doesn’t find it. Dejectedly, he walks away in the direction that he came from. 

 

-

 

_ He buys another cactus. Those are easier to take care of. He sets it on the windowsill in his (their) lounge. It’s been a month since Dan left. Everyday, he almost expects Dan to walk through his (their) front door again, apologies on his lips and dimples on  his cheeks. He cries sometime, but it’s more of in a helpless way than in a sad way. He wants a time machine so that he can go back and see Dan one last time. But in the same instance, he never, ever wants to see Dan ever again. It frustrates him, not being able to sort out his emotions.  _

 

-

 

Dan gets up some time later, lines of dried tears tracing their way down his cheeks. His lips are dry and cracked. His stomach is growling in protest, wanting food. His throat is sore, his hair greasy. He goes and showers in the small bathroom of the motel. He lets the warm water wash everything away. Everything’s shadowed, like emotion could be there, but he’s suppressing it because it hurts too much to think properly. He stares at his body in the mirror afterwards. He doesn’t look like himself. He looks like somebody else completely. Sick. Tired. Hungry. Lonely.  _ Lost.  _

 

-

 

_ He watches anime. It’s easy to lose himself in it. It’s been a week since Dan left and he still catches himself thinking of Dan more than he should. It shouldn’t be like this. Dan left, and Phil was the one who had told him to leave. He doesn’t want him to come back, but he doesn’t want him to have left at the same time. He’s stuck in a whirlpool, hating himself and hating Dan. He screams sometimes, angry tears racing down his cheeks and tasting salt in his mouth.  _

 

-

 

Dean lets Dan shower. It’s almost an hour when he gets out of the bathroom, a head of curly hair and a face looking only slightly more calm. He almost  _ (almost)  _ apologizes to the younger boy. None of this is his fault. But at the same time, all of this is his fault. Hi shakes his head and pinches the space between his eyes, staring at Dan’s slumped shoulders as he sits down on the edge of the bed. 

 

“You alright?” He ends up asking gruffly. 

 

Dan looks at him with a face full of contempt, clearly saying;  _ No I’m not fucking alright do I look like I’m alright? Because I’m not.  _ But he answers with a quiet; “Yeah.” 

 

Dean knows that he’s lying but doesn’t want to push someone’s whose eyes flash red when they’re angry and whose thin frame screamed exhaustion and near-brokenness. 

 

“Good.” Dean affirms the lies, “Because we’ve got lots of stuff to do today.” 

 

Dan’s questions of  _ ‘Wait what are we doing today, where are we and what the hell does any of this shit have to do with me and Phil?’,   _ dies in his throat because something tells him not to utter his thoughts outloud. 

 

-

 

_ The bath water is cold but he doesn’t recognize it as his knees are drawn up to his chest and angry tears are pouring down his face and his hands are clenched into fists. He wants to forget. He wants to forget the way that Dan left. Sure, he had been the one who had told him to get the hell out and never come back, but at the same time the feeling of utter despair set a damper on that whole affair. He had been the one. This was his fault. His fault.  _

  
-

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pls leave comments theyre the only thing i have


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooo look at me i wrote another chapter

 

 

 

 

-

 

_ Dan smiled, dimples appearing on his cheeks. His hair was curly, but not long enough to appear as anything more than just wavy. He called Phil a nerd, full of laughter, lightly punching Phil’s shoulder, letting his momentum push Phil back onto the couch. Dan buried his head into Phil’s shoulder, letting the thin fabric of Phil’s T-shirt muffle his laughter.  _

 

_ Phil’s hands were on Dan’s back, flitting their way up under Dan’s jumper, tracing up his spine and to his neck. The jumper is bunching up by Dan’s shoulder blades. Dan just giggled harder. He turned his head towards Phil’s neck, Pressing his lips into the exposed skin, where remnants of last night’s bruises remained.  _

 

_ A smile played across Phil’s lips, his hands grabbing at Dan’s waist to pull him up, so that Dan was straddling Phil’s hips, a hand on either side of Phil’s face.  _

 

_ Dan’s smile was so big.  _

 

_ His gaze was full of light and laughter,  _

 

_ Full of love.  _

 

_ “I love you.” Dan murmurs, the smile still stretching across his face but less visible as he pressed his lips against Phil’s, chaste and quick, nothing more than just a peck.  _

 

_ Phil’s finger tips are lightly scratching between Dan’s shoulder blades, pausing for a millisecond before cocking an eyebrow, a smirk taking over the previously more-innocent grin. Dan let him tug his jumper over his head. He leans down to press kiss after kiss to Phil’s pale skin.  _

 

_ Just below his adam’s apple; _

 

_ His jawline; _

 

_ His chin; _

 

_ Just in front of Phil’s ear;  _

 

_ Below Phil’s right eye; _

 

_ Phil’s forehead; _

 

_ Phil’s lips, deeper and stronger. His tongue swiped across Phil’s bottom lip. Phil kissed him back hungrily, easily turning Dan into a whining mess, tugging at Phil’s hand to lead him to his bedroom, clothes shed along the way.  _

 

_ Phil pushed Dan onto the bed, crawling on top of him.  _

 

_ Dan gasped as Phil flicked his tongue past his lips, his hips rutting up into empty space as Phil leans back, digging around in Dan’s bedside drawer for a half second.  _

 

_ He comes back, his hands tracing all over Dan’s body.  _

 

_ His hips, to his chest, to his neck, his thumbs pressing into Dan’s lips, which were parting of their own accord.  _

 

_ Dan whined, lacing his fingers behind Phil’s neck, and pulled him down.  _

 

_ Dan’s lips are swollen and red, moaning low in his throat when Phil’s fingers tease at Dan’s nipples.  _

 

_ Phil pulled away from the kiss, attacking Dan’s neck rather than his mouth.  _

 

_ Dan arched his back, his hands making fists around the sheets under his hands, biting his lip to stop himself from being too loud.  _

 

_ But Phil encouraged him, his voice low as he said; “Come on baby, don’t hold back for me.”, whilst at the same time trailing his hand down, farther. Bumping into the tip of Dan’s cock.  _

 

_ Dan squirmed, jerking upwards and letting his head tilt backwards, biting his lip harder but not able to stop the whine from seeping through.  _

 

_ “Goodboy.” Phil praises, letting his hips press down against the younger boy’s.  _

 

_ Dan was so hard that it almost physically hurt, but yet again Phil was holding back, just enough to make it impossible for him to reach his orgasm.  _

 

_ “Please”, Dan murmured, arching his back for some kind of friction.  _

 

_ “Hm? What would you like me to do, baby?”, Phil replied, leaning backwards off of Dan’s hips, his hands tracing their way between Dan’s legs, lightly scraping his fingernails over the sensitive skin on his thighs.  _

 

_ Dan’s breath came in short pants as he felt Phil’s hands woking expertly at his thighs, knowing exactly where to touch him to make him feel good. _

 

_ “What do you want?” Phil repeated again, drawing his hands back and looking at Dan intently.  _

 

_ “I-I want you to fuck me-” Phil breaks Dan off my crashing his lips into the other boys “-Please.” Dan whined against Phil’s lips.  _

 

-

 

“We have to do it now.” Dean mutters, looking over his shoulder to the brown-haired boy currently lying on the shitty motel bed, the raggedy blanket tangled with his pale legs, an old T-shirt pulled up just enough to reveal his belly button, a thin pair of boxers the only thing that he wore. He didn’t look like he was asleep, just really,  _ really  _ tired. 

 

He turns back to Cas, not missing the regret swiping across his face. 

 

“What?” Dean asks, addressing Cas. 

 

“I can’t feel anything there.” Cas replies, keeping his voice quiet enough, hopefully so that Dan couldn’t hear. 

 

Dan could hear, but he didn’t bother alerting the others of that.

 

“We- fuck. Cas, we have to get him,  _ them,  _ back. Don’t tell me that we came all this way for nothing.” 

 

“I’m not going to give up.” Cas snaps, “But I don’t know what’s wrong.” 

 

“We’re at the right place, right?” Worry etches Dean’s question. 

 

“Yes.  _ Yes.  _ This is the right place. Just maybe not the right time.” Cas tried to reassure Dean. It doesn’t work all that well. 

 

“Son of a bitch.” Dean curses, stomping out to the impala, making sure to slam the door behind him. 

 

Dan sits up, letting his bare feet touch upon the cracked and tiled floor. His hair is curly and his eyes are empty, not that anyone notices. 

 

“What’s happening?” Dan finally asks, addressing Castiel. 

 

Cas hesitates, like he wasn’t sure whether or not he wanted to tell Dan.  

 

“You’ll find out soon enough.” He settles on saying, turning to go follow Dean, but Dan jumps up, crossing the room in two strides and grabbing Castiel’s wrist in his hand. 

 

“ _ Tell me. _ ” He snarls, eyes flashing red. 

 

He’s shot back in an instant, lightning running through his veins. He stumbles backwards, a low growl in his throat; “How did you  _ do  _ that?” 

 

“Perks of being an angel.” Cas snapped back, slamming the door behind him. 

 

Dan grabs his jeans and pulls them on, along with a thick jumper, and follows them outside. 

 

They’re deep in conversation, glancing up when Dan slips into the backseat, his face twisted into an easy glare. 

 

“You obviously need me for  _ something. _ ” He starts, “That has to do with Phil-” Dan’s breath catches in his throat as he says Phil’s name, “-But Phil’s dead. He’s-” Dan gestures towards Cas, “An  _ angel,  _ or something. The rocks are falling at Stonehenge and I have no  _ fucking  _ idea of what’s going on. So if you want my help, you’d better tell me what  _ any  _ of this has to do with me… and Phil.” Dan ends with a yell, glaring at them both, “Tell me. What is happening. I need to know.” 

 

Dean looks to Cas as if Castiel could answer. Cas shakes his head slightly. 

 

“Tell me!” Dan shouts, slamming a hand against his thigh. 

-

 

_ “I love you.” Phil murmured against Dan’s neck, his lips tracing over red marks left there.  _

 

_ “I love you too.” Dan replied easily, like the words had been on the tip of his tongue.  _

 

_ Their legs are tangled together, their hair all messed up and their lips red and swollen. Skin on skin, bare lust, soft beginnings with no end in sight.  _

 

_ “I don’t ever want this to end.” It might be the post-sex overlay hanging around them that made Dan say these words. Or it might have been the raw feeling of dulled electricity running between their skin. It could have even been all of Dan’s emotions from the past eight years. Either or all of those could be it.  _

 

_ But it was true.  _

 

_ Dan never wanted this to end, this peace. The beauty of the porcelain man surrounding him. Rain thumped against the thin windowpanes from outside, and Dan shifted closer to Phil, curling up into his side and running his hands over him.  _

 

_ Phil kissed Dan’s forehead gently, carding his fingers through the curly brown hair.  _

 

_ “I don't want this to end either.” Phil whispers, kissing him again. And again, and again. Over and over again, declaring his love to Dan.  _

 

_ (Everything ends.) _

 

-

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going on vacation for about two weeks! (Disneyland and then mexico) So unfortunately, this fic will not be updated until after I get back. However, I will still be writing it while I'm gone so there should be a much longer chapter to make up for it! 
> 
> If you need something to read while I'm gone, I have several other fics that you might like (#spon)
> 
> Also, I recently made a beta'ing tumblr account, where me and 6 other people beta fics! So if you have a fic to be beta'd, go to fanfictionbetas.tumblr.com !
> 
> Please leave comments uwu


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im still gone but. .. .... i wrote this and well... .... hope you like it.
> 
> (also this has like no editing at all so im sorry if theres any mistakes im a mess okay)

Five years ago, stairs creaking under Phil’s feet, hearing a key in the lock, seeing the doorknob turning. Watching, as Dan walks in, his eyes bloodshot and his tie loose, buttons have been missed, leaving small gaps to which he could see Dan’s pale skin.

 

Phil says, “No.” 

 

Dan slurs, “What?” 

 

“Tell me you didn’t.” Phil’s voice is shaking and his eyes are bloodshot, though from a completely different reason as to why Dan’s are.

 

“What?” Dan feigns innocence. 

 

“Don’t.” It’s utter  _ anger  _ in Phil’s voice. That’s how it had been lately. That’s how it is now. That’s why this is happening, at the root of it all. Phil’s  _ mad  _ and Dan’s the one who’s causing the madness and pain onto the other boy in the first place. 

 

“Dan!” Phil cries out, keeping his voice strong, without breaking. He demands an answer, “ _ Where were you? _ ” 

 

They both know the answer, but are daring each other to deliver the news out into the open air of the tiny - really, barely cupboard size - front hall to their apartment. Phil stood partly on the stairs, tears forming in his eyes. He wants to scream at the boy in front of him. He wants to yell;  _ “Don’t do this to me, Dan! I love you! Don’t do this! Come back, please!”  _ But he can’t because he’s not sure if all those statements are true right now. If they’ll ever be true. 

 

“I was…” Dan doesn’t try to hide it. Why would he. That little shit. “I was with a girl.” 

 

“Doing  _ what  _ exactly?” Phil sneers, masking the pain with whatever the fuck  _ this  _ emotion was.

 

They know. They both know. Dan smells like sex and both the disheveled state of his hair and clothes - along with the drug-ridden eyes and the scent of alcohol on his tongue offer evidence. 

 

Dan’s lip curls and Phil wants to kill him. 

 

“We were happy.” Phil says it in such a dead tone of voice. Somehow it’s worse than all the yelling that there had been the past - how long had it been since they fell into this? They can’t remember. A week? No, must be longer. Months? Years? Phil watches Dan swallow thickly. 

 

“I’m not doing this anymore.” Phil says. His voice is so full of contempt. 

 

Dan says, “Fuck you, Lester.” 

 

And Phil breaks. All those years ago. A train station in Manchester. His stomach is doing flips because he’s going to meet  _ Dan.  _ Finally, after all this time. He’s finally going to be able to see the younger boy in real life. He watches as the train pulls into the station, trying to look through the hundreds of people all crowding onto the platform. Trying to see Dan. His Dan. The only Dan that could ever matter. When he finally does catch sight of him, his breath stops along with his heart and suddenly Dan’s  _ here.  _ His arms are around Phil’s waist and Phil’s hugging him back and all he’s thinking is;  _ “Finally, you’re here. Finally, I found you. Finally, we can be in love.”  _

 

To now. 

 

Tears streaming down Phil’s face as he’s wondering;  _ “How the fuck did we get here?”  _

 

He balls his fists up and holds back a choked sob. Dan watches, indifferent. 

 

“GET OUT!” Phil screams, shattering the near-silence. 

 

“ _ Leave!  _ Don’t you dare ever come back!” Phil spits at him.

 

Dan says; “Don’t try to contact me.” And turns, leaving out the door. He feels Phil’s shaking hands on his back, shoving him out of the door. He slams it behind him. He’s not crying or screaming but he can hear Phil. He can hear Phil’s sobs and cries and whimpers and screams. He can hear Phil’s frustration and his pain. He can  _ feel  _ his sadness. Dan leaves. He doesn’t cry. 

 

-

 

“Start from the beginning,” Dan says, from the back of an impala parked in front of a shitty hotel, “And tell me why the fuck I’m here.” 

 

“...You’re here because we need you.” Dean starts slowly, hesitantly. Dan’s eyes are flashing red and he doesn’t even look human, with that amount of frustration inside of him. 

 

“Keep talking.” Dan snaps as soon as Dean stops talking.

 

Dean glares at him, though it’s nothing compared to the look that Dan’s giving both Dean and Cas. 

 

“We need you so that we can get your friend - Phil - Back-” 

 

(Five years ago, Phil’s screaming;  _ “GET OUT!” in Dan’s mind. _ )

 

“-Because. He didn’t die normally. Someone killed him. But now it’s messed up a bunch of things and the only way to fix it is to get him back.” 

 

(So long ago, Dan’s looking at Phil, saying;  _ “Hey Phil? Let’s go home.” _ )

 

“We need you here to get him back. Because you love each other, soulmates or whatever the fuck you wanna call it.”

 

(Dan’s lying in Phil’s bed in Manchester. He’s whispering;  _ “Phil? I think I might be a little bit in love with you.” _ )

 

“In order to get him back the easiest way, we need someone who loves him, and that person is you. Ta-da, here we are. You happy now?” 

 

(Phil, so hurt, pain lacing through everything;  _ “We were happy.” _ )

 

Dan chokes out a; “We don’t love each other.” and Cas looks and Dean like,  _ “What?”  _ and that’s when Dan knows that they really don’t have any idea of what happened. 

 

Dan says, “I haven’t talked to Phil Lester in five years.” 

 

Dan says, “Phil hated me.” 

 

Dan says, “I fucked everything up.” 

 

Dan says, “I didn’t go back.” 

 

Dan says, “I deleted everything and told myself I was okay.” 

 

Dan says, “I don’t even know if he was happy when he died.” 

 

Dan says, “We don’t love each other,” and, “We hated each other.” 

 

Dan feels tears in his eyes feels Dean and Cas’s stunned gazes staring at him. 

 

“No- But. No, you love each other.” Dean whispers, under his breath. Like he was begging for it to be true. Like it had to be true. 

 

Dean says something incoherent then, sounding like a string of curse words but Dan’s not all that sure because all that he can think about is  _ Phil.  _ Dead, lifeless, angry Phil. A Phil that’s gone and never coming back. 

 

Cas breaks through the hopeless atmosphere, “But you  _ did  _ love each other? At some point, you were in love?” 

 

Dan remembers the looks that Phil used to give him. The  _ ‘I would do anything for you in a heartbeat.’  _ looks. He remembers not knowing what his sexuality was, and having Phil talk to him through the shitty pixleated screen of his laptop, mid 5-hour skype call, talking him though it. Telling him that it’s okay. He remembers hugging Phil for the first time and remembers when he dropped out of uni. He remembers really throwing himself into making youtube videos. He remembers tours, books, movies. All with Phil by his side, making it infinetly easier. He remembers a  _ “...I’ve spent the majority of 2016 with another person…”  _ He remembers the small promises whispered against his skin and the never-ending presence of  _ Phil.  _ He remembers and he knows that  _ yes,  _ yes a million times, they used to be in love. 

 

“We used to be in love.” Dan murmurs, all fight missing from his voice, “But he hated me. After it ended, he hated me.”

 

Castiel pauses a moment. Like he’s not sure what to say in lieu of Dan’s answer and his broken-sounding tone. 

 

Then he speaks up, “Tell me why you’re not anymore.” He doesn’t say it in a mean way. He says it in the softest most please-I-want-to-help way. 

 

And Dan tells him. 

 

In the back of an old impala, he talks to one of the angels that watched Phil die, along with someone who looks too hardened to the world's suffering to feel any of his own anymore. He sits there and spills out his heart, starting in the middle but generally working his way around the whole story. Starting with a;  _ “I cheated on the love of my life and hid it from him.”  _

 

-

 

By the time that Dan finishes, his throat is sore and his eyes don’t have any tears left and his lips are dry and cracked and his eyes are faded. He wants to sleep and never wake up. 

 

“We have to talk.” Dean says to Cas and then leaves the car, expecting Cas to follow him. Which he does, readily. 

 

Dan left there, memories dug up all around him, old wounds picked over so much that they had started bleeding freely again. It’s a sharp sting and Dan can’t help but start thinking;  _ “I’m sorry Phil, I’m so sorry, please come back, Please Phil.” _

 

-

 

“Will it still work if they don’t love each other right now?” Dean voice is filled with desperation. He  _ needs  _ this to work. 

 

“I don’t know.” Cas tells the truth. He doesn’t want to lie to Dean.

 

“Can’t you just like-” Dean waves his hands around in the air vaguely, “Zap him back?”

 

“Dean…” Cas sighs, “We’ve been over this.” 

 

“I  _ know.  _ I just. What if it doesn’t work?” Dean says back, his voice sharp. 

 

“The reapers won’t let him go until Phil’s out of Heaven. That was the deal, that’s what we’ve got to do.” Cas’s tone is full of sorrow. Everything’s out of his power, for once. 

 

“Can you try talking to the other angels again?” Dean says it like it’s the only thing that is going to work. 

 

Cas sighs again. He’s done that already. More than once. The angels wouldn’t help. They wouldn’t even  _ talk  _ about helping. 

 

“I’ll try.” Cas promises. 

 

He then opens his arms a bit, an invitation. Dean falls into them. He always does. Through this all, Cas is the one that keeps him sane. 

 

-

 

Dan should be used to this. After three years, he should be used to not having Phil around. He was now living with Lara. He deleted his youtube channel yesterday. It’s not like he had been posting anything there anyway. He privates his twitter and Instagram but didn’t bother blocking anyone. Right now, he’s staring at two cups of coffee that he had just made. One’s his, dark, some sugar. A tiny bit of milk, nothing much, really. The others is Phil’s. Thick and creamy, two spoonfuls of sugar. He had been meaning to make coffee for him and Lara. Old habits die hard.

 

(He tries to blink the tears out of his eyes and then pours Phil’s coffee down the sink.)

 

-

 

Why hadn’t he stopped? Why hadn’t he turned around and apologized? Why hadn’t he done  _ something _ , anything, to stay with the other boy. Why had he let him slip through his fingertips, going from everything to nothing in a heartbeat?

 

Dan blames himself. This was his fault, all his fault. 

 

But he wants to make it right. 

 

He gets out of the car to try and find where Cas and Dean had gotten off to. He needs to ask  them  _ how _ they’re going to get Phil back. 

 

-

 

Dean doesn’t know what to say when Dan burst into the room, saying; “I’ll do it.” 

 

It takes Dean a moment to figure out what Dan is agreeing to, but then replies with; “Good.” 

 

They sit down at the shitty table in the shitty motel room and Dean runs over the plans. Dan nods along like he knows what any of it even means. Cas helps when he’s needed, with the more technical stuff. The plan, in itself didn’t seem so hard. But there had to be a catch. There was always a catch. Dan wonders what the catch to this will be but doesn’t bring it up. Dean seems so full of hope (for what, exactly? What’s he getting out of this?), and Dan doesn’t want to break that hope. 

 

“That’s it?” Dan asks after the fifteen minutes that it took to explain. 

 

“Yes,” Dean confirms, “You still in?”

 

(Yes,  _ yes,  _ of course he’s in. This is his chance to fix everything.)

 

-

 

Dan feels darkness inside of him but he pushes it back with all he has because now, there’s a way to make everything right. 

 

But the hurt and pain comes back every time that he remembers  _ that look  _ that Phil had given him, right before Dan had turned and slammed the door in his face. The look of betrayal. The look of;  _ ‘I thought we were happy? What did I do?’ _

 

It makes Dan want to scream. Phil deserved so much  _ more  _ than that. He didn’t deserve the stupid sullen boy who ruins everything that he touches. No, he deserved someone better. Someone who could love him properly. Not the paper love that Dan had tried to give him. (Was it paper? Was it really? Dan had felt like he had given Phil  _ everything,  _ but even that he didn’t feel like Phil really wanted it. Maybe that’s what turned him towards Lara. The need to feel like something  _ more  _ than what Phil had given him.) 

 

They had been happy. Once upon a time, everything had been perfect. But then it had spiraled into a never-ending nightmare and Dan didn’t know where he had gone wrong,  _ before  _ the initial cheating. Before that, there had been something missing and Dan wanted to fix it but he wasn’t sure if that was possible, back then. 

 

And then he had gone and fucked it up even farther without even trying to fix their little problems.

 

He wanted to make it right.

 

Because right now, without Phil, he feels broken, like he’ll never be whole again. 

 

-

 

“When are you doing it?” Dan asks, some part of his brain wishing for it to be ages away, ( _ oh, we won’t be able to do it for ages, don’t worry! _ ) the other part of his brain, the more dominant part is begging for a, ( _ We’re leaving right now! You’ll be able to see him in a matter of hours! _ )

 

“Now,” Dean says, “We’re leaving now. It’s already past midday.”

 

Dan nods his agreement and consent. 

 

-

 

“You’re perfect.” Phil murmurs, kissing Dan’s bare shoulders. 

 

Dan doesn’t know how to reply so her just arches his back into Phil’s chest a bit more, forcing their bodies closer together. Phil wraps an arm around Dan’s thin waist, pressing another kiss to the back of Dan’s neck. 

 

Dan says, “I love you.”

 

And Phil says, “I love you too.” 

 

-

 

Stonehenge is as they left it. For a place with so-called supernatural powers, it really didn’t do much. 

 

Dan’s standing in the middle of all the fallen rocks, he sees blood on the ground and doesn’t want to think about where it came from but he ends up thinking that anyway because his mind likes to fuck with him. 

 

( _ GET OUT! Leave. Don’t you dare ever come back. A scream of frustration and hands on his back, pushing him out. _ )

 

Dean asks him if he’s ready. He’s been standing in the same spot for twenty minutes, his eyes blank. But Dean’s words shock him out of his mind and back to reality. Dan shakes his head a bit but says, “Yes. I’m ready.” 

 

Dean gives him a nod, and look like he was going to say something else but decided against it. 

 

Dan’s job isn’t even the hard one. All he has to do really, is stand there. Apparently it’d get Phil back. 

 

Dan doesn’t want to hope, but he ends up hoping anyway. 

 

He hopes that if (when) Phil comes back, he doesn’t hate him. He hopes that Phil won’t yell at him. He hopes that Phil will forgive him. 

 

-

 

Dean shouts; “Brase yourselves, this is it!” Than slams a bloody hand against one of the rocks. Everything seems to shimmer in Dan’s eyes for a second, sequins dancing on the world from his view. Then suddenly there’s a shark crack and Dan feels an intense pressure on his chest, his knees buckleing and his body slamming into the ground, his vision fading to black. 

 

-

 

It feels like ice is surrounding him. But the cold of the moisture is leeching into his skin and leaving stained memories there. 

 

It’s Phil, screaming; “GET OUT!”

 

It’s Phil, a different Phil, whispering; “I love you, so much. I don’t ever want this to end.” 

 

It’s another Phil, the first one but with more sadness; “We were happy.” 

 

A differnt Phil; “This is the happiest I’ve ever been.”

 

Yet another Phil; “Leave. Don’t you dare ever come back.” 

 

One last Phil saying; “Dan, Dan, it’s me, I’m here. I love you.” 

 

-

 

Dan’s eyes open, and he’s met with light. So much of it. Dully, he recognizes that he’s lying on his back, on a bed. He’s on top of the blankets. His shoes are still on. He shivers, from the cold or something else, he’s not sure. 

 

“You're awake.” It’s Cas’s voice. He seems surprised. 

 

“I’m awake.”  Dan replies, pushing himself up into a sitting position against the headboard. 

 

He’s almost scared to ask if it had worked. ( _ Is Phil back? Is he here? _ ) 

  
  
Cas nods. Like he had read Dan’s mind, “It worked,” He says slowly, “Phil’s back.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new chapter in a few days! im writing it rn. 
> 
> comments are always nice.
> 
> also, i have another fic called Chasing A Fallen Star, which is kindaaaaa like this one not really but its v good and i love writing it so if you need something to read i'd definitely recommend that one.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okayyyy now its time for me to wrap this story up. its been months and i need to work on other fics sO i'll tie up all the loose ends in the next few chapters ahhhh its been so much fun writing ok bye 
> 
> (longer chapters are coming i know ive been saying that since i started writing this bUT im actually gonna do it. rip my updating schedule)

 

 

 

 

“It worked… Phil’s back.” The words make Dan’s blood freeze. 

 

Phil’s back? 

 

He’s really, truly back?

 

“Dean’s with him,” Cas continues, “Filling him in and such. He woke up about an hour ago.”

 

Dan’s heart is frozen, his blood running cold. ( _ It worked… Phil’s back. _ ) Five years and now it was coming all down to this? Five years of hate. Dan wonders if Phil will still hate him. No, he  _ knows  _ that Phil will still hate him. How could he not hate him? Dan asks himself if he’s okay. 

 

No, no he’s not okay. 

 

He feels like someone’s just stabbed him, and they’re now digging the knife into Dan’s already broken and beaten body. 

 

He takes a deep breath but it gets caught somewhere in his throat and ends in a fit of choking. 

 

He feels a shock of hatred, not towards Phil, but towards himself. This was all his fault. The knife stabs farther into his flesh and he lets out a pitiful gasp, bringing his hand to the non-existent wound on his stomach. 

 

( _ GET OUT! _ ) 

 

The monster in his head that had been contaminating his every move doesn’t seem to be there anymore and he doesn’t know what to think or feel or how to act. 

 

He takes two short, shaky breaths. He presses his lips into a thin line and says the thing that he had been dreading saying; “Can I see him?”

 

He wants Cas to say no. He wants Cas to tell him to give it some time. 

 

“Sure. Of course. - Dean said that he was bringing him over here when me and him are leaving.” 

 

_ Fuck. _

 

“Wait you and Dean are leaving?” Dan ends up asking, begging the shaking tremor to stay out of his voice.

 

“Yes. There’s kind-of a part two to this mission that we have to fulfill,” he looks at Dan, taking note of the horrified look on his face, “Don’t worry, it has nothing to do with you or Phil. Just me and Dean and someone else-”

 

He’s cut off by the door opening. 

 

The door opening and Dean’s face, peering through the crack. 

 

The door opening and Dean, walking in first.

 

The door opening and someone behind Dean, distinctly taller, a head of black hair.

 

The door opening and a little gasp of;  _ “Oh.”  _ escaping from Dan’s mouth. 

 

The door opening and  _ Phil.  _

 

-

 

He’s always filled the room with light. Bright, illuminating everything. The flaws, the good. The mistreated and the lost. But most of all, he would light up Dan. Dan’s heart of ice. 

 

You would walk into a room with Phil and everything would seem blurry, but  _ Phil  _ would be clear and sharp, the soft light of his warmth touching on everything. That’s how it always used to be for them. Phil was the warm one. Phil was the one who could fill up an entire room with his presence. 

 

It’s like that now. 

 

Everything’s blurry except for Phil. 

 

Everything seems warm. 

 

Everything has faded into the background. 

 

All that’s left is Dan and  _ Phil.  _

 

Of all the millions of things that they want to say to each other, they let silence stretched between them. 

 

Dan stares at his lap and he knows that Phil is staring at the floor because he doesn’t feel the azure eyes burning into him. 

 

He hears Dean clear his throat, but it seems to be somewhere in the distance, not really there in the bubble with Dan and Phil. 

 

_ (He’s hearing a strangled; “GET OUT!” In the back of his mind but pushes it away) _

 

Dan wants to scratch at his clothes. At his skin. At his veins and his blood and his mind because everything feels too tight. Like it’s trying to strangle him. He wants to feel okay but he knows that that’s not going to happen right now because right now Phil’s here. 

 

After five years. Phil’s here. 

 

Phil’s here and everything feels cold and there’s a  _ “GET OUT!”  _ playing through his mind over and over. 

 

Dan hunches his shoulders and fiddles with his fingers. He doesn’t know what to do, or say. How could he? He never  _ really  _ expected to see Phil again. Not after what had happened between them. (Not after the  _ “GET OUT!” _ ) 

 

Dan says, without looking up (Because deep down, he knows that as soon as he looks up into Phil’s azure eyes, everything will fall apart.), “I’m sorry.”

 

And Phil makes a choked noise that sounds like he could be trying to hold back a sob. 

 

Dan feels a lump in his throat form and his chest grows al tight. He feels like he might throw up.

 

He wants to hear Phil say something.  _ Anything.  _ Just to hear his voice. Just to see if it sounds the same. Has Phil changed? Have five years changed Phil? The room’s lighting up enough with Phil’s presence to suggest otherwise but Dan’s not so sure because everything still seems a little dim. 

 

“For what?” His voice is the same. It sends tears down Dan’s cheeks and his hands grab at the sheets he’s sitting on. Dan can hear the sadness in the voice. It’s almost ( _ almost, but not quite. _ ) the same tone from a cupboard-sized front hall, with bloodshot eyes and shaking hands. 

 

“ _ Everything. _ ” It comes out as barely a whisper. But Phil hears him. 

 

Dean and Cas are silently exiting the room, as if giving the two boys some space would fix what had broken a long time ago. 

 

Phil waits until the door closes behind Dean and Cas before saying; “That’s a lot to be sorry for.” It’s the same broken and dejected tone of voice. It’s the voice that makes tears run down Dan’s cheeks because this is  _ Phil.  _ Phil whom he’s gone through everything together, and now it’s over. It’s gone, now, because of five years and a  _ “GET OUT!”  _

 

Dan muffled a sob with his hand and then leaves it over his mouth to cover the way that his chin in trembling and his mouth is turned down at the ends. 

 

He can feel Phil’s gaze burning into him. It makes him want to scream. It drags his own eyes up to meet Phil’s. 

 

Blue meets brown and everything’s a whirlwind around them. 

 

Dan can’t breath because everything’s the same and he wants to scream. 

 

Phil says, “Get up.” with so much anger in his eyes. It makes Dan want to shrink. 

 

He still listens to Phil, though. He gets up and takes the four and a half steps that it takes to stand in front of the man whom used to be everything to him. Dan stares at Phil’s face, seeing millions of emotions. Love? Could he see Love there? Everything went by too quickly and he couldn’t tell.

 

“You never came back.” Phil’s voice is too soft for what had happened. 

 

Dan waits a moment before replying, “You told me not too.” 

 

Phil hesitates, Dan can tell that he wants to say something but isn’t sure how to phrase it properly. 

 

“I did.” He ends up settling on. 

 

Because that’s the truth; he did. 

 

( _ GET OUT! _ )

 

“I….” They want to say something but the words that are provided in the english language don’t cover what they feel. 

 

“You’re sorry?” Phil repeats. 

 

“Yes.” Dan breathes out.

 

“For everything?” Phil questions. 

 

Tears are racing down Dan’s face. Muffled sobs break through every so often. He kind-of wants Phil’s arms around him because he remembers how safe and happy that used to make him feel. 

 

Dan says, “For everything.” 

 

And then Phil’s saying, “That’s not good enough.” And Dan can see tears swimming in Phil’s eyes as well. There’s too much emotion in the room for it  _ not  _ to turn into anger or sadness. 

 

It’s not. It’s really not enough. Dan’s sorry, he knows he is. But an apology is just words unless it’s accompanied by actions. 

  
Phil repeats, “It’s not good enough,” and tears spill down his cheeks. 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you liked that ik it was short and rushed but its all i can do im so sorry


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> asdegsushdfgasdnxjdjfg idk what i think about this chapter or this whole fic in general i love re-assessing every decision that I've ever made :)))) at this point my only goal for this is to finish it before i go insane

 

 

 

 

_ “GET OUT!”  _ and  _ “I love you, Dan.”  _ runs through Dan’s head. Over and over again. 

 

“It’s not good enough.” 

 

Of course it’s not. 

 

_ “GET OUT!” _

 

“It’s not good enough”, and “I love you Dan.” 

 

“Dan?” It’s a real voice and it makes Dan take a step back, his knees being knocked out by the edge of the bed. He lands with a gasp and feels his heart pounding against his ribs. 

 

Phil’s looking at him. Looking at the broken and lost boy, laying sprawled out on the bed, making no move to get up. Almost like he couldn’t get up, even if he really wanted to. 

 

Dan has glaciers in his eyes, so cold. So foreign. 

 

Dan says, “I’m sorry,” and “I know it’s not enough.” It comes out as a cry, pleading for something. Mercy, perhaps. 

 

“ _ Dan, _ ” Phil’s talking but Dan can’t hear it properly because Phil had just said his name and it burns in his mind. It burns so hot. It’s unbearable. 

 

“Phil,” It comes out as a gasp. 

 

Dan can’t do this. Can’t take it. Judging by the look on Phil’s face, he can’t take it either. Dan whimpers, curling up on his side, squeezing his eyes shut. In his mind, this is all a nightmare, and one day he’ll wake up five years ago and prevent it from happening in the first place.

 

A nightmare because of the way that Phil looks at him, so full of distaste.

 

A nightmare because of the way that Phil said;  _ “GET OUT!”  _

 

A nightmare because of the way that Dan had done  _ that. _

 

A nightmare because everything  _ hurts  _ so much. 

 

A nightmare because they would do  _ anything  _ to go back to how they used to be.

 

The bed that Dan lies on creaks in protest when Phil sits down on the edge, inches between them. 

 

He says, “Why did you do it?” In a shaking voice. 

 

Dan doesn’t want to talk about it. He just wants it to have not happened in the first place because that’s so much easier than chasing after each other like they were doing now. Talking it through would require Dan to try and breath and to learn how to talk. It would mean that he’d have to get his sobs under control and his mind quiet. 

 

He didn’t know how to do that. Not now, not with Phil here. Not after five years and a  _ “GET OUT!”  _

 

Dan’s shaking his head and he wants Phil to leave. 

 

Everything’s coming back and it’s stupid. So  _ stupid.  _ This was all Dan’s fault, and now he’s falling apart? When all he should be doing right now is trying to fix everything that he had caused. Why had he done it?  _ Why would he do that?  _ He and Phil had been in love. True, beautiful love. It had been full of trust and happiness. And then he broke it. He broke that love and he broke Phil and  _ fuck,  _ he broke himself. Stupid. 

 

Phil says, “You need to calm down.” But it’s hypocritical of him to say something like that when his chest is just as tight as Dan’s and his mind is just as messy and His eyes are just as filled with tears and his heart is just as broken. 

 

Ten minutes pass and it’s not that long but it feels like an eternity. Dan’s quieted down to muffled whimpers and Phil has almost composed himself enough to keep talking. Almost, but not quite. 

 

They don’t talk about it because Dan’s getting up and telling Phil that he has to go find Dean; making some bullshit excuse as to why as he leaves. 

 

-

 

Dean thinks,  _ ‘Oh shit,’  _ when he sees the tear-streaked face of Dan Howell, because deep down, he had actually wanted the reunited Dan and Phil to be happy. Sure, getting Phil back hadn’t  _ really  _ been the main point of this whole thing, but considering everything, it would have been nice to see  _ some  _ happiness around here.

 

Dan says, “Was it really worth it? Was whatever you’re getting out of this, worth it?” Motioning towards himself and then towards where Phil still sat in the other room. 

 

Dean hesitates before answering, “Yes.” 

 

Dan wants to challenge him. He wants to say,  _ ‘What could possibly be worth this amount of pain?’  _ But he bites that part back. He doesn’t know why it’d be worth it to Dean. 

 

“You could still fix it,” Dean says.

 

“No,” Dan replies. He runs a hand through his hair, “There’s not fixing it. I broke it.” 

 

Dean hears the trembling note and doesn’t press Dan any further. 

 

-

 

Phil doesn’t know what to think. 

 

One second, he had been drinking. The next, his stomach was starting to feel quite unpleasant. Then, almost as if he had simply fallen asleep then woken up the next day; he was in a rough bed of a motel, listening in confusion as someone told him that - not only had he  _ died,  _ but that Dan was here. Dan whom had helped ‘get him back’. 

 

So yeah, Phil doesn’t know what to think. 

 

He feels weirdly okay considering all that. 

 

Well, not  _ ‘okay’  _ persay. 

 

More like, he could deal with it. It had been a lot to take in. Still is a lot to take in, dying, coming back and then seeing someone whose last words to him had been, “Fuck you, Lester”, and “Don’t ever contact me again.” 

 

And now he’s saying sorry? For  _ everything _ ? Like that word could just somehow magically repair what he had done to Phil. What he had done to someone who

loved him with all of his heart. Phil still couldn’t believe that Dan had done that. But he had and Phil hadn’t been good enough to make him stay. 

 

-

 

It’s almost 2am when Dan gets the nerve to leave Cas and Dean’s room and go back to the one that he was supposed to be sharing with Phil. He kind-of hates Dean for sticking them together in the first place, Wouldn’t it just be so much easier if he could go back to London and Lara. Wouldn’t it just be so much easier to forget that any of this had happened? Forget the tears, forget the loss, forget the pain and hurt? 

 

He couldn’t do that. No matter how much he wanted to. Phil was here and that was just how it was now. Phil had been part of his life - no, not part of his life, Phil had been  _ all  _ of his life. They had been intertwined in everything that they did. Their job, their friends, their families and their favorite places. Everything was intertwined because not only had they been part of each other's  _ lives,  _ but they had been part of the other as a  _ person.  _

 

Maybe that’s why, when Dan crawls into bed at 2am, whispers, “I am. I’m so sorry for everything. You know I would change it if I could.”, without knowing if Phil heard him. He most likely hadn’t heard him. Why would he? The stillness of the lump that was Phil in the bed next to Dan’s suggested that Phil was asleep. 

 

-

 

Dan would change it? Really? He’d go back and change everything? He’d go back and change the  _ “Fuck you, Lester,”  _ as well as the  _ “Don’t ever contact me again,”  _ ? Phil didn’t know what to think. He’d managed to keep his breathing slow and his body from tensing up, as not to alert Dan to the fact that he had heard. 

 

Phil wants to punch something. This wasn’t fair. Non eof this was fair. Dan couldn’t just go and say something like that, so full of meaning. Not when he had left things as he had. 

 

Phil squeezes his eyes shut tighter and begs sleep to take over his body.

  
-

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hoped you liked that bc i hate it


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally the end of this fic is in sight

 

 

 

 

 

Phil feels like he’s about to be sick every time that he sees Dan. He feels sick and is reminded of a past that at this point, he’d do anything to forget. What was the point of bringing him back to life, if he wasn’t  _ really  _ living anymore? 

 

He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. It wasn’t fair. 

 

He hears a soft knock and the door. It’s Dan. Of course it is. He knows it is because Dan has always knocked like that; softly, like he was almost scared of entering the room. 

 

“Come in.” Phil murmurs, barely loud enough for Dan to hear him through the door.

 

Still, Dan pushes the door open slowly. The second Phil sees the younger boy, he wants to scream. Dan doesn’t miss the look of utter sadness that crosses over Phil’s face but doesn’t comment on it. 

 

“I wanted to talk,” Dan whispers. Like he’s afraid that if he talks properly, something will break. 

 

“Okay.” Phil agrees because he’s not sure if he can say anything else. If he could, he’d scream,  _ GET OUT!  _ At Dan. 

 

“I… Um-” Dan stumbles over his words, taking a few steps forwards to sit on the edge of Phil’s bed. 

 

“What?” Phil snaps. He glares at Dan, not missing the way that Dan’s eyes widened slightly when he saw the look at Phil was giving him, “If you want to talk, then talk. Don’t waste my time.” 

 

Dan looked shocked but Phil didn’t apologize. 

 

“I’m…” Dan runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back up into a quiff, “I need to - um. I just-” Dan’s voice catches a bit and he pauses to take a deep breath. 

 

“You’re sorry,” Phil says without feeling, “That’s what you’re trying to say, isn’t it?” 

 

“Yeah.” Dan sighs. 

 

“It’s not good enough.”

 

“I know.”

 

“So why do you keep saying it?” Phil’s stomach twists inside of him. He hates this.

 

“What else am I supposed to say?!” Dan explodes, “Do you  _ really  _ want me to tell you  _ everything  _ that happened after I left? D’you really wanna know about the drinking and the self hatred and the anxiety and depression?! What about crying almost every night for  _ years  _ because you weren’t there?! Should I tell you about how I pushed everyone away? Or about all the times that I wanted to come back but couldn’t?! What about when I was sad and Lara didn’t know how to help me? Or how life didn’t feel like it was worth living because  _ you  _ weren’t there with me! Fuck you, Phil! I hate you!” 

 

He didn’t. Not really. He couldn’t hate Phil, not now. Instead, he collapses in sobs. Phil stares at him, dumbfounded. He swallows thickly. He feels like he’s back in a small hallway, standing halfway on the stairs, staring at a dunk and high Dan. He feels like he’s about to yell;  _ “GET OUT!”  _ He wants to, he really does. 

 

It’s not fair. Dan can’t just come back here and expect Phil to say that everything would be okay. Not after what he did. Nothing would be okay, not between them, anyway. 

 

It takes a few minutes for Dan to calm down, and once he does, He mutters a sorry and then gets up to leave without a backwards glance. 

 

Phil’s left alone with his thoughts, which may be even worse than having Dan scream his emotions towards Phil. He thinks mainly about what Dan had just said to him. Had he really been telling the truth? Had Dan broken, when he left, just as Phil had? 

 

-

 

Phil’s standing on the roof of the motel, a thin metal railing the only thing blocking him from falling off. He looks up, towards the sky. The clouds blot out the majority of it, but he looks closer, seeing small specks of light. He wonders what it would be like to just… fall. 

 

Why did Dan need to bring him back from the dead? When all that there was with the living was pain and sadness? He didn’t want to be here, not with Dan. Not now. Maybe not ever. He shudders, tugging the thin jacket tighter around his shoulders, shielding him a bit from the wind. He leans over the rail. He can imagine doing it; slipping under the rail and just… falling. He squeezes his eyes shut for a second. 

 

_ Fuck.  _

 

He feels lost and doesn’t want to do this anymore because everything  _ hurts  _ so much. His fingertips touch the metal rail and he slowly slides under it. He grips the rail tightly, his feet still on the roof. He leans out, feeling the cold night air swirl around him. Tears are leaking out of his eyes and trailing down his face. Can he do this? Does he really want to? He looks down the the pavement directly underneath him, far below. 

 

Then, suddenly, there's a scream of; “ _ PHIL! _ ” and someone’s dragging Phil backwards. 

 

Phil suddenly can’t breath. His chest feels too tight. He’s on the right side of the railing now, safely away from the edge.

 

_ “What the hell were you doing?”  _

 

Phil can barely hear him. He keeps his eyes closed. His body is shaking. He wants to disappear. Dan’s standing in front of him, babbling stupidly. Phil doesn’t hear him because it seems like there’s almost a veil between them, shutting them out from one another. 

 

Phil feels so lost. He does the only thing that makes sense at that moment. He whispers, “Dan?”

 

Dan says, “Yes?”

 

And Phil murmurs, “Hold me?”, because he can’t think and he just wants someone, anyone, to be there. To be there for him and to stop the thoughts of death away. He wishes that his voice didn’t portray how hurt he felt.

 

Dan steps forwards and wraps his arms around Phil’s thin frame without thinking. Phil ducks his head into the space between Dan’s shoulder and neck, his hands clinging to Dan’s jumper. 

 

It was cold, so cold. Phil felt like he was freezing, turning into an ice cube. He presses his body closer to Dan’s - if that’s even possible - and tries to listen to what Dan’s saying, though he can’t quite make out the words yet. 

 

He feels like his chest is being ripped in half. 

 

He screams into Dan’s shoulder, biting at the fabric that’s separating his teeth from Dan’s pale skin. His heart is beating too fast; he’s sure that Dan can feel it against his own chest. Dan’s hands are running up and down Phil’s back almost fervently. 

 

It’s almost like going home, in a way. Dan’s arms are familiar, the body pressed up against him one that he knows almost more than he knows his own. 

 

He’s brought back to a time when everything was at ease, so different from how everything  _ really  _ is right now. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Phil whispers, stepping back from Dan, many minutes later.

 

Dan says, “It’s okay.” But it’s not. 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls comments i crave validation


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick lil updab for u
> 
> (mentions of selfharm/suicide/blood)
> 
>  
> 
> ((pls read notes at the end))

 

 

 

 

The thing is about being ‘okay’, is that it’s fluid; one second you’re okay and the next second you’re as shit as shitty can get. One second you’re floating on clouds, and the next you’re snapped back into the painful reality of being stuck on the ground with perhaps a little bit too much emotional baggage. 

 

You can’t go back in time and be ‘okay’ because the past is always preserved in our brains as so much better than it really was at the time. 

  
  


Dan and Phil want to be ‘okay’ again, but that’s impossible with how everything is nice. 

 

It’s impossible, but it doesn’t stop Dan from slipping into Phil’s room in the early hours of the next morning. The motel’s bedrooms only had two beds, so Dean had decided it best to sleep in one room with Dan, whilst leaving Phil and Cas to have the other room. It was convenient for when they wanted to avoid each other. Though right now Dan didn’t want to avoid Phil. Right now, Dan wanted to make things be ‘okay’ again. 

 

Phil’s awake. Merely pretending to be asleep. Dan goes through the motions anyway, sitting on the very edge of Phil’s bed and shaking his shoulder lightly, whispering a quiet but ever-so-sharp “ _ Phil!”  _

 

He rolls over, now facing Dan. His lips says; “Go away.” But his eyes say; “Stay.”

 

“I need to talk to you.” Dan’s voice is strong. It’s not trembling at all. That almost seems to shock Phil, as if he hadn’t been able to see the possibility of Dan  _ not  _ being sad or scared or guilty around the boy who brought back far too many bad memories. (They were both choosing to forget about all the  _ good  _ memories. The memories of lust and love and hope)

 

Telling Dan to go away is hard. It’s hard because Dan looks like he needs this  _ so much.  _ Like he’d die without it. He always does something with his eyes, making them bigger, more innocent looking. Softer. Making a “Yes?” ride up Phil’s throat and to his lips. He cuts it off and mentally curses himself. 

 

Instead of the ‘ _ yes’  _ that had almost tumbled past Phil’s lips, Dan gets a muttered; “Fuck off.” 

 

Dan says, “No.” and many minutes later, they’re stood on the balcony, Phil sitting in a shitty plastic chair and Dan leaning against the railing, his elbows balanced on it precariously. 

 

“Talk.” Phil says, because he can’t stand the silence. Not anymore. Never again. Not after sobs about the world cried into Dan’s chest; after the other boy had pulled him back to the other edge of the roof and held him until everything hurt a little less. 

 

And Dan talks, “I know that sorry isn’t enough. It never will be. But it’s a start. It’s better than nothing. It’s all I have to give to you, Phil.” He takes a deep breath before continuing, “I never lied when I said that I loved you-” Phil flinches at this, “-Because I  _ did.  _ I  _ did  _ love you so much. I know what I did was wrong. I know it was my fault. I know-” He flinches “-I K-know all of this is my fault.”

 

Phil gets up from his seat on the chair and stands next to Dan. Their sides almost touch. 

 

Dan keeps talking, “What I did to you was not okay. For obvious reasons. But P-Phil…. We were breaking.” Another deep breath. 

 

Phil wants to cut in with a ‘ _ every couple has trouble sometimes but it doesn’t mean that they’re breaking. _ ’ But he doesn’t say it. Something about it being too much and if he did say it, he’d most likely end up in tears. Again. He didn’t want that. No more tears. 

 

“We were breaking and it scared me and I ran to L-Lara because everything that me and her had was already so broken that it- it couldn’t get w-worse, y’know? Me and her were always bad. But me and you weren’t. We were good, right Phil? At one point in time… You were everything that I had.” Tears are running down Dan’s cheeks. Phil doesn’t notice, or if he does, he doesn’t wipe them away. 

 

Dan turns towards Phil.

 

“I loved you. I l-loved you s-so  _ much _ .” And Phil can hear the snap as Dan breaks down. One ‘I loved you’ too much, as it seems. He’s sobbing but still trying to speak through the sobs because he’s not done explaining but at this point Phil can’t understand anything of what Dan’s saying and  _ Phil  _ can feel his heart breaking for the suffering boy. He stomach feels weird and he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing when he wraps his arms around Dan’s torso, holding him close. 

 

Phil’s not crying. 

 

Dan’s sobbing, screaming about something that Phil can’t hear. 

 

Phil’s holding him tight. He can feel each and every one of Dan’s ribs pressed against his body. Dan’s burying his head into Phil’s shoulder and as his sobs ceased, Phil thinks that he hears an exhausted sigh of ‘ _ Please don’t make me go away again. _ ’

 

Breaking isn’t as pretty as it’s all written about in stories. She doesn’t kill herself because the love of her life doesn't love her back; she kills herself because she can’t think of a life without the love of her life loving her. He doesn’t start cutting apart his skin because he wants attention; he cuts apart his skin because everything hurts so much and pain is distracting. Breaking isn’t glass shattering on marble. Breaking is picking up those shards of glass whilst you're searching for your heart; but you can’t find it because it belongs to someone else and all you end up doing is slicing apart your porcelain hands and watching the tears mix with blood. 

  
Dan’s breaking or, perhaps he was always broken. It’s just that he started looking for his heart but he can’t find it. Can’t find it because someone else already has it. 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so I have no idea where this fic is going and if you've ever written any sort of fanfiction then u'll probs get where im coming from. its not even writers block its more of feeling like i can't write anymore because writing just sends my mental state spiraling down for some reason (???) i just . need to sort out where im going with this fic. if you didn't know, when i first started writing this ('bout 200 words in) i planned on it being short. a oneshot. 2k at most. it was gonna have a v fluffy ending and was just gonna be all happy and stuff. Phil originally wasnt even gonna die. he was gonna be married to dan and they were supposed to have a dog . as you can see; it didnt really go to plan. this being said, updates will be less frequent (says the person who already has no updating schedule) but i will finish this. i hope. im gonna try to, at least. reminder that i also write some lil' oneshots /and/ that i have another (much better) chaptered fic (chasing a fallen star if u wanna check it out) as well as two fics that im furiously working on that will hopefully turn into long (20k+) oneshots. One has asexual!dan and trans!phil (pastel museum thing aswell) AND a kinda historic fantasy one with bamf!dan who likes to kill ppl (its a long story) and a phil who i have not created yet . basically, i have a lot of shit going on, what with writing and school and trying to maintain friends and having animals and all that fun stuff !!!! (i crave death) anyway if you wanna talk hmu on tumblr @starry-eyed-lester expect a chapter in the next little while but remember that i have gone over 2 months without updating chaptered fics before/usually abandon them 1!!! (how fun) anyway. im trying. bye for now   
> -Cas


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one more chapter to go fuckers buckle up bitches youre not even ready for all the shit that i have planned for these gay fucks
> 
> SPOILER/WARNING  
> //also smut in this chpater lol nice\\\

 

 

 

There was a thick and ever present feeling of awkwardness between Dan and Phil during the following days that resulted in them avoiding each other. They didn’t want to have to talk about all the crying and hugging and gross emotions. Dan had asked Dean if he could go back to London, and continue his semi-normal life; but Dean refused. He stated clearly the he and Phil had to stay at the motel with them until some ‘Other business’ got sorted out. Business that, apparently had nothing to do with either Dan or Phil, but they still needed to be present in order for everything to work out. When Dan had pressed Dean for details, all he got in return was a glare and silence for the rest of the day. 

 

However, Dean did give his laptop to Dan one day because if Dan didn’t; “Shut up and stop whining you fucking child.” then Dean would; “Fucking punch you upside the head.” 

 

A laptop with Netflix, chalk-full of T.V shows that Dan had to catch up on. 

 

So, whilst Dean and Cas were off galavanting around in the impala god-knows-where, Dan was shirtless, in bed, watching the next season of Stranger Things and eating Pringles out of the can. Inspiring. 

 

He had half a mind to bang on the wall and yell at Phil, asking if he wanted to come watch it with him. But that probably wouldn’t end well, seeing as the last few times they were in each other’s company it ended in tears and a horrible breaking feeling somewhere deep in Dan’s chest. 

 

Right now though, he felt fine. For the first time in ages. Fine as in he didn’t feel too scared or too sad, and the little bits of sadness and fear that  _ did  _ crawl into his mind, were easily fought back by binge watching T.V shows and eating too much food. 

 

He didn’t think about Phil as much as he thought that he would, now that Phil’s back and well,  _ alive.  _ But that was good. He didn’t really  _ want  _ to think about Phil that much right now. Because right now he was fine and all that Phil had brought to his life for the past few years, save from the night on the balcony with Phil’s arms holding him together, was sadness. 

 

Not now. Now, he was fine. Just fine.

 

That was, until he heard a knock on his door. In hindsight, he should have just ignored it. Ignored the knocking and continued watching Netflix. But of course, he didn’t. Instead, he drags himself off the bed, wipes the back of his hand across his mouth to dislodge any stray crumbs, and opens the door. 

 

Phil steps in, seemingly unaware of Dan’s I’m-spending-all-day-in-bed appearance. 

 

Dan says, “Hi.” awkwardly, crossing his arms over his bare chest and trying to ignore the way that Phil’s eyes took in everything in the room. The empty bags of chips on the ground by the bed. The red bull, haphazardly balancing on the edge of a table. Clothes strewn around the floor. Neither bed was made. The T.V was broken, a huge crack through the screen. 

 

Phil says, “Hey.” and then, after a slight pause, “I thought about stuff.” 

 

Dan snorts. Like that makes any sense. ‘ _ I thought about stuff _ ’ Phil’s never been that descriptive but this level of no communication is nearly taking everything to a whole new level. Dan just goes ahead and assumes that Phil means, ‘ _ I thought about what you said the other night. _ ’

 

“And…?” Dan trails off. The door is closed behind him and he takes a half a step back, his back hitting the cold wood. Phil’s standing near the middle of the room. He has a look on his face that Dan doesn’t want to ponder on. 

 

“And I… ” again, not very descriptive. Just trailing off at the ends of his words, like he almost doesn’t know what to say next. Or knows what he wants to say but is almost scared to say whatever that thing is.

 

“So? Did you want to talk more?” Dan tries encouraging the other man. The tight feeling in his chest of brokenness isn’t there. Pride at himself flows through his body. He thinks that he might be getting over Phil. Hopefully. At least, there was no brokenness and that was a start.

 

“No,” Phil says quickly, “No. No I don’t want to fucking-” Dan flinches at the curse word, “-talk anymore.” 

 

“Okay,” Dan tries to sooth, tries to ignore the borderline obsessive gleam in Phil’s eyes, “What did you want to do, then?” 

 

These words seem to snap Phil out of something. Like he just remembered why he had come to Dan’s room in the first place. 

 

Phil says, “I hate you.” 

 

Confusion streaks through Dan’s face. Then anger. 

 

“I hate you, too!” He yells. Because fuck Phil and fuck emotions. Phil had screamed  _'GET OUT!'_ at him, all those years ago, and now he comes in here and says that he hates the previous love-of-his-life?

 

“Fuck you!” Phil screams. So much anger in his eyes. In his whole body.

 

But then, without hesitation, Phil takes the two quick steps forwards that are needed to reach Dan, grabs him roughly by the hips, and masks the surprised squeak from Dan by smashing their mouths together. 

 

Dan’s hands find the back of Phil’s neck on their own accord. 

 

Phil’s bites at Dan’s bottom lip, pulling it out and then letting it ping back into place biting it harder, almost drawing blood, pressing Dan harder against the door and licking into his mouth, swallowing the whine that escaped from Dan’s mouth. Dan starts to say something but Phil cuts him off;

 

“Don’t talk.” Phil mutters against Dan’s neck, biting at the skin there, pressing his tongue against the angry red marks and sucking harshly. 

 

Dan, for his part, remains limp and pliant under Phil’s touch. He’s reminded strongly of times in the past where this very thing had happened. A tiny part of his mind is whispering at him to push Phil away but every of bit of his entire being wants to let Phil do whatever he wants to him. 

 

Dan tries gaining more dominance, deepening the kiss on his terms and such. However, Phil just bites at his tongue and lifts Dan up, allowing the door to take most of his weight. Dan pulls at the back of Phil’s hair, too hard for it to be comfortable.

 

Phil’s fingernails rake across Dan’s back, creating even more red marks on his body, but Dan just arches his back into it, drawing his head back for a second to take a deep breath before Phil’s pale lips attach themselves to Dan’s chapped ones once again.

 

Phil carries Dan to the bed, laying him down and straddling him, hovering over him for a split second, taking in the scene of Dan’s swollen lips, coupled with red marks over his pale skin and a neediness in his unwavering gaze that Phil can’t ignore even if he wants to. Dan tries jerking his head up to bring Phil back down into a kiss, but Phil presses a hand against his chest, not allowing him to do so. He waits until Dan lets out a needy whine and complies, melting back down into the mattress, waiting for Phil. Only then does Phil kiss him again, barely giving the younger boy time to adjust before his tongue is assaulting Dan’s mouth. 

 

Phil’s hands find their way to the waistband on Dan’s sweatpants, taking his mouth away from Dan’s to press it against his bare chest instead. His fingertips dip down, and then grasp the edge of Dan’s sweatpants and pulled them down, making short work of pulling them over Dan’s feet and promptly throwing them halfway across the room. The boxers soon follow, leaving Dan completely exposed and vulnerable under Phil’s careful hands.

 

Phil leans down, going back to work on Dan’s already lust-stained neck. He grinds down slowly, pressing their hips together, causing Dan to whine slightly, grabbing Phil’s hair and dragging his head up to press their lips together yet again. 

 

It’s almost animalistic; barely being able to control their own movements. For once, they’re not thinking about their past or their feeling for one another. All that they’re thinking about is the heat between them, lacing through their bodies. 

 

Unthinking. 

 

Hands, roughly fumbling against shoulders, lifting the other up, pressing the other’s back against the headboard. A mouth, hot and wet against the other’s lower stomach. A muffled moan as hands fumble with his arousal. But the hands were knocked away by the other’s, longer, thinner, paler fingers. Skeletal fingers. A voice, commanding, _ “Don’t touch yourself.” _

 

Heat. So hot. Flames, licking at the edges of their bodies. Sweat, an ever present gleam. A man, fuly clothed still, switching positions with the naked one, now he’s against the headboard, the other on his lap, his back all scratched up, though the scrapes not breaking the skin. 

 

Phil runs his mouth all over Dan’s neck and chest, as if claiming him. Bruises blossom there, red and wet and new. Days later they would still be there, however faded to a purple or blue tinged with yellow. 

 

Dan ruts his hips against Phil’s, though is held back from doing much by Phil’s hands, holding tight to his hips, not allowing him to get any more pleasure out of this than Phil wants. Dan just whines in protest, but as always, stays limp and pliant. Just the way that Phil likes him. 

 

Dan tries to pull Phil up for a kiss but Phil refuses; keeping everything on his terms.

 

Moments later though, Phil leans back to take in Dan’s full appearance - covered in bites and scratches, lips slightly parted, hair curled with sweat, thighs trembling - Beautiful. 

 

He unzips his fly, adjusting his body slightly so that he could tug his jeans down slightly, gripping his hard and dripping cock in his free hand - the other of which was on the back of Dan’s neck, his fingernails digging into the skin. Phil lets out a tiny gasp, but he’s sure that Dan hears it. He glances up, eyes meeting Dan’s. Beautiful, sexy, hot,  _ perfect  _ Dan. He kisses him hard, their teeth clashing together. Phil stokes himself a few times before becomes aware of the way that Dan’s watching his actions -- almost hungrily. Phil smirks before moving his hand from the back of Dan’s neck to the other boy’s cock, relishing in the loud, almost scream-like moan that Dan let out. He strokes them both in sync, watching Dan’s face screw itself up, breath coming in shorter pants. He was close. 

 

Then, Phil changes. He pushes his hips closer to Dan’s, lining their dicks up, and strokes them at the same time, in one hand. He flicks a thumb over their tips, using precome as some sort of lubricant, making his movement more enjoyable as well as faster. Dan groans, leaning forwards and kissing Phil’s lips briefly. 

 

Dan can barely think when he reaches his orgasm. Phil knows exactly how to move his hand, and with the added heat of Phil’s cock being pressed against his; their precome mixing together; their tongues in each others mouths; their sweat pressing against the other's body. His body shakes, a gasp leaving past his lips, a warmth and building feeling - and then, release. 

 

He slumps against Phil’s shoulder when he’s done, eyes flickering shut, barely aware of Phil finishing solely on Dan’s wrecked appearance. 

 

He can’t think. Or doesn’t want to think. 

 

His stomach is coated in come, both his and Phils. Bruises cover most of his body. Phil, to his credit, was still pretty much fully clothed. But it didn’t make Dan feel awkward, strangely enough. Maybe because Phil looked just as full of lust as Dan does.

 

“I hate you.” Phil says again, shifting uncomfortable below Dan’s weight. 

 

But the words  _ ‘I hate you’  _ don’t seem to hold as much meaning when they’re pressed against each other.  _ ‘I hate you’  _ doesn’t seem like much when everything is covered in whatever this post-sex emotion was. Lust? Love?

 

Dan falls asleep on top of Phil. Nearly an hour later, Phil slides out from under Dan, covering the other boy with a blanket and turning off the lights before slipping out of the room. 

 

_ One night.  _

 

He had promised himself one night. 

 

One last night. 

 

A night that couldn’t mean anything. It couldn’t mean anything because Phil had said that he hated Dan. And Dan had said it back. That was, Phil was sure that he wouldn’t do anything stupid later. Couldn’t do anything stupid later, because they had hated one another. 

 

_ But was that really hate?  _ Phil’s thoughts bug him as he trudges up some old rickety metal stairs.  _ Sure, the words were there. But the feeling, the feeling of hate, that wasn’t there. There wasn’t really any feeling of hate. Not really.  _

 

_ One night. _

 

He had promised himself one last night. 

 

He stands at the edge of the roof now. The moon casts a glow on his pale face and shaking features. 

 

_ The last night.  _

 

_ “I hate you.” _

 

_ “I love you, Phil!”  _

 

_ “GET OUT!”  _

 

_ “Fuck you.” _

 

_ “I love you, so much. I don’t ever want this to end.”  _

 

_ “I loved you, so much!”  _

  
Goodbye.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol oops my hand slipped soz
> 
> peer pressure me to make a happy ending happen bc rn i wanna kill every1 in this story and will most likely end doing that. (this was gonna be the last chapter) (but i decided that im nicer) (so one more chapter) (if you have any q's about this or anything leave them down in the comments so that i can tie up all the loose ends in the next chapter)


	15. last chapter, fuckers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is finally done thank fuck

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-

 

Dean pulls into the small parking lot of the motel, sighing heavily as he turn the car off and leans against the steering wheel. He feels Cas’s hand on his back, slowly rubbing in circles. 

 

“We’ll find them.” Cas promises, though even Dean can tell how empty it sounds.

 

“How?” He shoots back.

 

“Like we’ve been doing for the past week. They’ll come eventually.” Cas sighs.

 

Dan says, “How, Cas? How are we going to convince the reapers to just Sam back?” His voice is thick with sadness. 

 

Cas’s breath catches in his throat at the name of the other boy.

 

“It’s going to be okay.” He murmurs, mostly because he can’t think of anything else to say. He might be lying. Maybe it won’t be okay; maybe the reapers  _ won’t  _ give Sam back, and all Dan and Phil’s sacrifices would have been for nothing. All their pain, being for nothing. 

 

Dean shouts, “It’s not!” and slams his hands against his thighs, “It’s not going to be okay.” 

 

But Cas’s eyes aren’t on him. Cas’s eyes are on the silhouette of a man standing on the edge of a roof, high above them in the parking lot. Cas’s eyes are on the man whom’s tipping forewards on the edge. 

 

Then, so quickly that if you blinked you would’ve missed it; Cas is gone from the car, leaving Dean alone to his thoughts. 

 

-

 

_ Were you scared when he told you to leave? Did your skin prickle under thousands of insecurities? Did tears come to your eyes? When he said that he didn’t love you anymore, did you cry?Were you scared that he would choose her over you? When you found out that he might have chosen somebody else over you, were you scared?  _

 

_ And when he did choose her, how did you keep yourself from falling apart? _

 

-

 

When Dan wakes up, his hands are shaking. His breath is coming too heavily and even though he’s lying down; he feels like he’s falling. 

 

Down, down, down.

 

-

 

There was a moment, too many years ago, where Dan had said;  _ “I love you, Phil! You and nobody else… because, when i’m with you, everything seems to fade away and sometimes it’s scary because i’m only nineteen and when you’re nineteen you’re not supposed to have already found the person that you want to spend the rest of your life with… It’s scary, Phil. But I want this, I want this so much. I love you, Phil! You and nobody else.”  _

 

-

 

Down, down, down.

 

Arms around his waist, hauling him back from the edge. Too strong and hard to be those of someone he used to love. 

 

-

 

It feels like the skin to too tight for his body. Like his bones are about to push through, like his muscles are going to rip at it. It’s too tight. It’s too small. He can’t fit here and he feels like he’s suffocating, the tightness of his skin not allowing him to breath properly. 

 

He scratches at his skin, drawing blood. 

 

-

 

Years ago, when everything was somehow alright, Phil’s saying;  _ “I love you, too. God - Dan, I love you so much. I didn’t know that loving someone like this could ever be possible, y’know? It’s like… You just get me. You understand what I’m saying and you watch Buffy with me even though sometimes I yell at the T.V and other times I talk over the characters with exact quotes because i’ve seen it too many times. I don’t know how you put up with me, with all of me, but you do. I’ve shown you every piece of me and you still stick around. I love you, too, Dan. I love you so much. I don’t every want this - us - to end. _

 

-

 

His eyes are void of tears. Cold air swirls around his body, but his body isn’t reacting. No goosebumps are appearing on his exposed arms. Dully, he realises that Cas is standing in front of him. Practically yelling. Why aren’t his ears working? How is he supposed to understand Cas if his ears refuse to work properly? Why aren’t his arms working? He wants to lift them up, wants to wrap them around his own torso. His throat is thick with words that he can’t say and his lips are swollen and red, his eyes empty. 

 

Nothing, unfeeling, naught.

 

-

 

Brises are littered all over his pale skin. He presses the tip of one of his fingers into one, feeling a sharp burst of pain. It almost shocks him back into reality, his skin doesn’t feel so tight anymore. He smashes his head against the wall. Rakes his fingernails over his skin, again and again. 

 

_ (I can’t do this, Phil. I can’t.) _

 

-

 

Dean growls in frustration. He puts the key in the ignition and starts the car up, not waiting for Cas to reappear. Wherever Cas had gone. 

 

He’s speeding but it doesn’t matter because he can’t see any police cars around and even if there were, he wouldn’t slacken his pace. Something burns in him, he’s not sure what it is, but his mind is still allowing his body to act on it.

 

-

 

_ Thousands upon thousands of memories, all piled on top of one another. Occasionally, the thoughts would get mixed up; intertwining with others. The past looks so much better, the emotions that they hold not sticking with the actions because memories become tangled together, happiness and hope from one slipping into something that is only filled with despair and sadness.  _

 

_ Too many hugs to count. _

 

_ Thousands of kisses. _

 

_ Words, hushed so that only the other person could hear them.  _

 

_ Memories, shared between them.  _

 

_ An; “I don’t every want this - us - to end.”  _

 

_ And; “I love you, Phil! You and nobody else.” _

 

_ Above those, “GET OUT!”  _

 

-

 

Blood drips down his skin as curse words tumble from his chapped lips.

 

-

 

“FUCK!” Dean screams. He wants to punch something. Kill something. Too much frustration and anger to not be channeled into something that he’d most likely regret. 

 

-

 

Everything’s too small. Maybe it’s the walls closing in or maybe it’s because his brain can’t process a single word that he’s trying to think.

 

-

 

_ “It’s just like - you make everything seem so dull and colourless? I don’t know if i'm even making sense right now. Think I drank a bit too much but i’m not lying and this is how I really feel it’s like - I don’t even know how to describe it. It’s just -- when you’re there, you make everything else completely fade away? Like you’re the only thing that really matters? T-to me. You matter. Like, a lot. So much. It’s just I wish you’d answered your phone so that you could actually talk to me now. But I just. I’m so… Phil? Phil, everything’s so bland without you here so can you please come here? Come to me? I think my eyes aren’t working properly because everything's in shades of grey and white and black and it’s - okay it’s kind of scary and I just really want you here so that I can feel things again and see properly because you’re - you. You… Phil? Phil, you’re everything. You’re the sun and the moon and all the stars. You’re the grass covered in dew in the morning and the birds flying between the branches of trees in the autumn, just before the moon comes out and I… I love you so much Phil, can you please come here?”  _

 

-

 

Everything’s grey and everything feels too tight. Dan wants to claw his eyes out.

 

-

_ “You just… You get me.” _

 

_ “I…”  _

 

_ “Nonono, It’s fine it you don’t-” _

 

_ “But I do, god, I do.” _

 

_ “You do?”  _

 

_ “I love you.”  _

 

-

 

_ Manchester eye, 19th of October, 2009.  _

 

_ “It’s nice, isn’t it?” A hand, nudging against the other boy’s. They’re touching, have been, pretty much since the train station. Little touches, like they were trying to memorize what the other person felt like. Not sexual, not at all. Just needed to tell the other person that they’re there, and that they’re not going anywhere anytime soon.  _

 

_ “Yeah, It’s a good view.” But Dan’s not looking out at the city, he’s looking at the other boy. _

 

_ “Shutup.” Phil grins, catching Dan’s eye. _

 

_ Dan smiles because everything right now, feels right. It feels soft and happy and warm and soft and gentle and careful. It feels hopeless and desperate, in the best way possible. _

 

_ Maybe Dan’s just so caught up in those feelings - the feelings that he hadn’t really, truly - felt in such a long time. Phil just brought something out in him, something that made him feel so… full. Complete. Like nothing could ever be wrong ever again, like the badness of the past had impossibly been washed away. _

 

_ Maybe it’s just because he’s caught up in all that that he kisses Phil. Or at least, tries to. His lips land somewhere on the side of Phil’s chin because Phil had moved his head back before he realised what was happening.  _

 

_ Dan had backed away, blushing furiously.  _

 

_ He only blushed more when Phil gaped at him.  _

 

_ Then; all there was were Phil’s lips against his and Dan never wanted that to end. _

 

-

 

“I can’t do this.” Gasps, resonating throughout the room. The ghost of Phil’s mouth, against his skin. Whispers from the past, in his ears. Thoughts that he shouldn’t be thinking, scrambling his mind. 

 

-

 

Phil fights against the arms that are holding him back. Why can’t he feel anything? How did it come to this?

 

-

 

Dean nearly crashes the impala when a female reaper appears in the middle of the road. He stops in time, swerving to the side and diving out of the car. 

 

She says, “Next time, don’t go around killing innocent bystanders and this won’t happen again.” 

 

And then, she’s gone. 

 

She’s gone, but the road isn’t empty. 

 

Sam is there.

 

_ Sam.  _

 

-

 

Phil Lester has maybe had one too many drinks. Okay, maybe more than just one too many. But hey, it was a party. You were supposed to get shitfaced. Or at least, that’s what he told himself after all the shots. 

 

It hadn’t been a good night. 

 

There was a gnawing deep in his chest that wouldn’t go away. At least it subsided after the alcohol. 

 

His skin is pale from not leaving his flat properly in days. His lips are red from where he bit his lip earlier, after having fallen down the stairs. His eyes are bloodshot. His breathing is forced and rapid. He kind-of just wants to disappear. 

 

No, It wasn’t a good night. 

 

So when a tall brown-haired boy offered him another drink in an american accent. A drink of what, Phil didn’t know but he took it anyway, not even trying to slur through a ‘thankyou’. He stumbles down the front steps outside, sitting on the bottom one, unlocking his iPhone, holding it steady despite how shaky his hands had been just moments earlier. 

 

He’s not sure when his thoughts drift to Dan. Maybe it’s just the drinks that are making him feel like this. Yes, he decides, it’s just the drinks.

 

Though, dragging up some pictures just made it worse. 

The first one he sees is old. 

 

2009 old. 

 

At the Apple store to post on DailyBooth kind of old. 

 

The first day that they had ever spent together. It sends shivers down Phil’s spine, though that might just be from the cold atmosphere around him. 

 

He scrolls through them, barely acknowledging the tears that at some point had started racing down his pale cheeks.

 

He feels a breaking somewhere in his chest and wants everything to just… disappear. Disappear because he feels so sad right now. Sad and angry and hurt and he wants it all to go away so that he can be content again.

 

It’s then when his vision starts to fade away and his breath slows down. 

 

Just out of his line of sight, a tall brown-haired boy with an american accent is watching him. Two blocks away, a black impala is parked by the side of the road.

 

-

 

An hour later, slightly-tipsy Sam, after making sure that the black haired vampire was actually dead, heads back to the impala and Dean. 

 

But he never gets there.

 

Never gets there because the reapers get to him first. 

 

-

 

“HE WASN’T A VAMPIRE YOU IDIOT!”

 

“HE NEVER SHOULD HAVE DIED!”

 

“WHY CAN’T YOU WINCHESTER BOYS JUST KEEP TO YOURSELVES?!” 

 

These screams were the ones that followed Sam as the reapers took him into death. 

 

-

 

A week later, the reapers gave Dean a choice; get Phil back and then we’ll let you have Sam. 

 

-

 

He wasn’t supposed to die. 

 

Not then, drunk and crying. 

 

Not now, on the roof of a motel.

 

-

 

Dan’s shaking when he gets out of bed, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and pulling them on. He doesn’t bother with a shirt. He doesn’t even sort out his hair or try to hide the marks that Phil had left on him almost mere hours ago.

 

He leaves his room, turning left to Phil’s, banging on Phil’s door.

 

When Phil doesn’t answer, he just starts shouting; “PHIL! GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!” 

 

He’s still knocking when Cas leads a very spaced-out looking Phil down the thin metal stairs, to their row of doors. Into Dan’s vision, where he gapes at the two of them.

 

Cas looks scared. Scared of Phil, maybe. Scared of what he had been about to do.

 

Phil looks… Empty. Like he’s not really there.

 

Dan says, “Phil.” 

 

But Phil’s eyes stay empty and Dan finds that his eyes are filling with tears because he almost prefers it when Phil’s eyes are full of lust or anger or hate. Anything’s better than… this.

 

-

 

Three hours later they’re all in the same room together. 

 

That is to say, Dean, Sam, Cas, Dan and Phil.

 

Dan was angry.

 

“ _ This  _ is why you did all of this to us?!” dan gestures towards Sam, fury written on his face, “Hurting  _ Phil,  _ hell! Even hurting  _ me?!  _ All just to get  _ your _ brother back after he ‘accidentally’ murdered my supposed ‘soulmate’?!” Dan screams, it almost brings Phil out of his trace. Almost but not quite.

 

Dean swallowed thickly. It’s the truth but he almost wishes that it wasn’t.

 

“So this is all your fault,” Dan continues, “Have you any idea what you’ve done?” 

 

He goes quiet for a second, trying to figure out what to do.

 

He end up grabbing Phil’s hand and dragging him out of the room.

 

They leave. Dan vaguely wonders why he hadn’t just got up and left earlier.

 

-

 

It’s three months later when Dan sees Phil next. 

 

He’d spent the last little while staying with his friends, PJ, then Felix. Louise and then he went to spend a few days with Dodie. He even ended up with his parents for a few weeks. And now, Phil. 

 

It had been awkward, the first night when he had dragged Phil back to Lara’s place. Awkward mostly for Lara, who had assumed that both of the boys had died.

 

There had been a shocked cry of; “What the hell, Daniel?!” When Dan had pushed his way past her and into the flat, his hand wrapped around a barely-functioning Phils wrist. 

 

Though, for obvious reason, she hadn’t been mad. Simply stunned. 

 

They had only stayed there for a night, for lack of a better place to stay.

 

Though Phil had left before Dan. Apparently, a good night’s sleep did him well. That, and a three-hour long phone call with his mum. 

 

He had left Lara and Dan alone. 

 

They ended up both apologizing to each other. 

 

It didn’t make anything any better than how they had left things before, when Dan had practically been kidnapped and used by Cas and Dean, but it was something. Then, he had packed a bag and left. 

 

-

 

Three months later, Dan’s standing on Phil’s doorstep. He hasn’t rung the doorbell yet. 

 

Just this door hold too many memories to count. He takes a deep breath. 

 

It’s been years, he can handle this. 

 

Another deep breath and his fingers hover over the bell. 

 

Another and he’s pressing it, squeezing his eyes shut and listening as Phil thumps down the stair. 

 

And then he’s opening the door and Dan forgets to breath until Phil’s hand lands on his shoulder and he offers him a timid smile. Timid, but strong. 

 

“I see you found your way here alright?” Phil says in lieu of a greeting. 

 

“Yeah - I um… Many years practice.” Dan grins, stepping forewards when Phil backs away, letting him into the hall. 

 

A loud;  _ “GET OUT!”  _ plays through Dan’s head. He has to keep reminding himself that it’s just in his head. Though, in this very same place, many years ago, Phil really had been saying it. 

 

Phil seems to almost read his thoughts. He says, “Your old room is set up as the guest bedroom. Stay as long as you like, I’m just about to go on YouNow,” and then starts up the stairs. Dan follows him closely, breaking off with a soft; “See you later,” when Phil slips into the lounge, closing the door behind him with a little smile, allowing Dan to make his way to his old room alone. 

 

The old piano is still there, along with his old desk and his old wardrobe and the bed’s the same, even it if has crisp new sheets and a new blanket on it. 

 

Little things that screamed Dan were gone. 

 

To anybody else, this would seem like just another empty room. 

 

But it wasn’t empty. It was filled with memories. 

 

-

 

“Hey guys!” Phil waves at his laptop, reading out a few names from the fast-moving chat of younow. 

 

He answers a few questions about an upcoming video and names somebody’s cactus before, through the thin wall connecting the lounge to the guest bedroom, he hears the piano playing. 

 

He gasps, and his face goes white. 

 

Memories push over him and he struggled to stay in present time. He rambles pointlessly to try and mask how lost he looks. 

 

But a few people notice the music in the background. 

 

He knows that they’re putting two and two together but doesn’t want to acknowledge it. When a few messages come through asking if Dan is back, he says that he has to leave and cuts the liveshow short. 

 

Dan opens the door to the lounge almost as soon as Phil’s done the liveshow. He gestures a hand towards the T.V and says, “Anime?” 

 

-

 

It’s a week later when Dan manages to convince Phil to take a selfie with him to post on instagram. 

 

Phil doesn’t want to get his old follower’s hopes up. Dan doesn’t either, but points out that they’re pretty much friends again. Phil doesn’t talk to him for a few hours after Dan had told him that they were friends, but eventually he agrees. 

 

Dan posts it to instagram, and then twitter. The he turns off his phone and goes to order some pizza. He doesn’t really want to see everyone’s reactions just yet. 

 

-

 

“You’re right,” Phil says one day, after filming a video, “we are friends again.” 

 

“Yeah,” Dan agrees. 

 

-

 

The guest bedroom is seeming more and more to be ‘Dan’s bedroom’ again. Of course, he still says it’s only temporary. Only until he finds a job and has enough money to get his own flat. 

 

But Phil starts to think that maybe he would be alright if Dan stayed for… longer. 

 

Nothing can erase the past. The cheating and the anger and sadness and hate and death would always be there, no matter what they did. 

 

But Phil wants to keep those feelings in the past. 

 

That’s why he asks Dan to make a video with him. DanAndPhilGAMES had never been deleted, after all. 

 

-

 

Dan’s been back for nearly five months now. 

 

He’s still sticking by the ‘temporary’ thing, but by now they both know that it holds little truth. He’s made two videos with Phil and doesn’t want to move too fast, but he’s thinking about maybe making another YouTube channel. 

 

Little things are returning to the guest bedroom. Some plushies and books that used to be his, that Phil had never thrown away, not like the majority of Dan’s stuff which hadn’t been so lucky. 

 

-

 

It’s 2am when Dan creeps into Phil’s room. It’s dark and quiet but Dan can tell that Phil’s still awake. He thinks that maybe he should just leave, forget this whole thing, but then again, he couldn’t sleep and his room is full of too many memories to think straight. 

 

So his plan had been to go to Phil. 

 

Kind-of like old times.

 

Except that instead of sex, he just wanted to watch some Buffy and eat some popcorn and forget about the past. 

 

So he makes his way over to Phil’s bed with a soft, “Hello?” 

 

Phil sits up in bed, leaning against the headboard, “Hey Dan.” There’s a gentle look on his face, masking the worry about Dan coming here. Worried because Dan had to really be hurting or feeling really uncomfortable to come to Phil. 

 

Dan sits down on the edge of the bed without invitation. 

 

“Can we watch a movie?” He rushes, “Or Buffy or something, I just-” his breath is coming in short pants. He can’t get the  _ “GET OUT!”  _ out of his head. “-I just, Fuck. I should go, i’m sorry for bothering you-”

 

He gets up to leave but Phil jumps forewards, grabbing his wrist gently. 

 

Phil says, “Stay.” 

  
And Dan does.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> complaints can be left in the comments below ty
> 
>  
> 
> (also for those of you who are wondering; nO THEY DONT GET BACK TOGETHER EVER!) (dont cheat) (also note to me: dont start fics like this if you have no plan)

**Author's Note:**

> Pls leave comments and kudos they're the only thing that will convince me to keep writing this mess.
> 
> (also my tumblr is @starry-eyed-lester if u wanna follow)


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